Where You Have Been
by FallenStar2
Summary: The darkness is spreading. Lord Voldemort's dark plans are unfolding. Two Slayers are caught in the crossfire. And the boy who lived is facing the fight of his life. People live, people die and other lives will change forever.
1. The Gathering, Part I

**Where You Have Been**

**Rating**: Going to PG-13 (adult language, violence, etc)

**Beta**: The lovely Grace K.

**Summary**: It's been one year since the Watcher's Council took her life away. Now that she has the chance to go home, how far will she go to hold onto the one thing binding her to the world of magic - her brother? Continuation to Where Will You Go.

**Grand Summary**: It has been one year since Buffy found out that she was adopted and that her real family was in England. After discovering her brother, Harry Potter's, magical world, she found herself in a whole new life. But despite the fact she could finally have the "normal" life she's always wanted, danger always lurked… Buffy has now accepted the position of a vampire hunter under the Ministry of Magic. Harry's about to enter his seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but things won't be easy. Voldemort has already taken his parents and now the Dark Wizard has marked his sister, as well. Yet he knows she'll never stop fighting for him and he will make the ultimate sacrifice to save the world – if he has to. The conclusion/continuation of 'Where Will You Go' returns for the dark world that lies ahead…

**Disclaimer**: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. Joss Whedon owns Buffy and Angel. So anything you recognize probably belongs to them.

**Timeline**: For those that have read 'Where Will You Go', you will know that Buffy left Sunnydale at the end of her senior year of high school after she quit the Council back in January, after the Council put her through her trials. This would make the year approximately 2000 now. Pretending Harry was actually born in 1983 (to make him seventeen now), the story picks up and continues in Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts.

- - - - -

**Chapter 1**

**The Gathering**

- - - - -

The Atlantic Ocean sparkled like glass far below Flight 843 as it jetted across the sky between Iceland and London. Buffy sat curled in her window seat, staring at the vast spread of black far below, shining in the light from the full moon. It was past midnight, but she didn't care. She'd slept the entire flight from Los Angeles to Newark, only to spend their two hours in the other airport dragging Willow and Harry from one convenience store to the other.

After sufficiently stuffing her bag with enough snacks to make a room full of starving men happy, they boarded their plane at nine, preparing for the eight hour flight overseas, with a brief stopover in Iceland.

Willow was seated in the aisle seat, sound asleep, her headphones covering her ears. Harry was sitting in the seat in front of Buffy, his own eyes closed, sleeping gently.

Buffy couldn't wait to return back to England. She had so much to see and do, including all of the unpacking and the distribution of the gifts she'd purchased for her friends. Willow would be staying at their flat for the next two weeks until her apartment at Oxford opened up. Not to mention the fact that there were usually a lot of people loitering about. Percy was a frequent visitor, usually showing up around mealtimes. Harry was the house chef, since Buffy was quite inept at making even a sandwich without destroying their small kitchen. She was getting better though, basically because to get her out of the house, Harry had pushed her off to cooking school.

For five weeks he had been complaining about her lack of cooking skills. She had improved though, despite her reservations for being the only one in her class who didn't know what hummus was.

Turning from the tiny window, Buffy opened her carry-on and pulled out a magazine. Snapping on the overhead light, she made to read the latest issue of Vogue.

She was jostled awake several hours later by Willow. Blinking in the bright light now spilling through her window, Buffy yawned and stretched.

"Hey, Buffy, you're not in the mood for breakfast, are you?" Harry asked, turning around in his seat and grinning at his sister, who looked groggy and disheveled.

"Yeah," she muttered, running a hand through her wild hair before her face froze in horror. "Wil?"

She heard Willow laughing next to her and lifted the Vogue which had fallen to the floor and batted her best friend across the shoulder with it.

"What did you do?" Buffy moaned.

"She didn't do anything, sleepyhead," Harry teased as he reached across the back of his seat and helped smooth down her hair. "You really should consider getting it cut. It's going to be a major pain in the ass once you start your new job."

"You're a major pain in the ass right now," she tossed back, jerking away from him and reaching into her purse for her brush.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of plane," Willow said in a sing-song voice as one of the flight attendants approached with her cart. "Now, will it be coffee, juice and bagel?"

"As long as it's not tea," Buffy said, making a face as Willow turned to give her own breakfast order out. Fifteen minutes later, once her bagel and banana had been sufficiently devoured, Buffy rose to go and clean up a bit in the bathroom. It seemed like a lot of the other international passengers had this idea, too, and stood in line almost ten minutes before she squeezed into the impossibly tiny space. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she quickly brushed out her hair and put it up, thinking it was better to be safe than sorry.

She returned to her seat just as the pilot's voice came over the loudspeaker, saying that their flight was now approaching England and that they should prepare for arrival within the next fifteen minutes. Willow and Harry both rose to go to the head and returned without a hitch before the fasten-seatbelt-sign flashed on and they all began stowing their things. Tucking her Vogue inside her bag, Buffy leaned back in her seat, prepared to arrive back in the city she had come to consider her home.

It was nearly a half hour before the plane finally taxied onto the runway and slowly turned towards the gate. Buffy was nearly on the edge of her seat, cramped from sitting on stupid airplanes for the past eight hours, not to mention the five-and-a-half hour flight before that. She wasn't the only one; it appeared, since Willow was bouncing in her seat. Tugging on her long suede overcoat, Buffy waited, tapping her foot impatiently on the back of Harry's seat. She wanted out of the cramped quarters, since Slayers weren't meant to sit in closed quarters for half a day. Or more.

When at last the seatbelt sign had clicked off, there was a mad rush to the exit. Having spent the last flight to California jammed in a throng of excited passengers, she knew all too better the advantage of waiting. She held both Willow and Harry back as people rushed past, their luggage occasionally bumping into the other unsuspecting passengers. After five minutes, the crowd seemed to thin, and Buffy, Willow and Harry departed the plane.

They arrived in a zoo.

"It's chaos!" Willow cried happily, experiencing her third flight to England in a year.

"Or beyond," Harry grunted, dragging his bag through the doorway as the three of them paused for a moment, glancing at the structured chaos erupting around them. They fought through the swarms to get down to luggage collection, and it was then they heard a loud, "Buffy!" behind them.

Buffy turned around and let out a bellow that made Harry jump and nearly tackle Willow. Throwing her bags on the ground (which left Harry to handle them), she raced across the airport to hug the person who had called her name.

"Who's that?" Willow asked, following behind the feminine shrieks and the sound of wild laughter.

Harry's answer was muffled behind his own bag, Buffy's carry-on, and her purse which felt it had been stuffed full of boulders.

They found out the answer soon enough. Buffy was standing next to a taller, dark-haired girl with dark eyes. They were talking quickly and overrunning one another's sentences in their haste. Harry just rolled his eyes as Willow gently pulled Buffy's purse off the top of his pile.

"It's Emma, you know… you met her, right?"

"Oh!" Willow gasped. "Yeah, I remember her!"

"I can't believe you just spent the past two weeks in Greece—"

"—oh, I've heard such wonderful things about those sunrises in California!"

"… meeting all of those famous Witches and Wizards of the ancient realm!"

"Did you go to Los Angeles? Please tell me you went to—"

An older woman, bringing with her a suitcase on wheels, stopped before the two women and shook her head. "Honestly, Emma, could you let her have a moment to breathe?"

"Oh, sorry," Emma said, pulling back, blushing slightly. "Mom, you know Elizabeth Potter, don't you?"

"We have met," said the woman, who had shoulder-length curly black hair and the same dark brown eyes as her daughter. "Emmeline Vance of the Order, as I'm sure you know by now."

"Oh, of course," Buffy said, shaking the woman's hand. Seeing her brother and Willow standing in the background, she waved them forward. Willow looked thoroughly excited, but Harry was in a rather tetchy mood. "Emmeline, I'm sure you know my brother, Harry. And this is my friend from California, Willow Rosenberg. Wil, this is Emmeline Vance of the Order I told you about, and her daughter and one of my old roommates from Hogwarts, Emma Vance."

"Pleased to meet you," Willow said, waving at both women with a shy little smile. Harry greeted Emma with a smile and turned to Emmeline in surprise.

"I could have sworn you had been sent to Africa to recruit members of the Order," he said in a low voice so that he should not be overheard by the rest of the world passing them by.

Emmeline glanced up and met the quiet gaze of the elder Potter girl and returned her attention back to Harry. "We've been recalled from abroad," she said hastily, handing off the suitcase to her daughter. "Emma just spent the past two weeks in Greece working for the Order there."

"It was great seeing you again, Emma," Buffy said quickly before more awkward questions could be asked. "I'll see you in a few days?"

"You bet you will," Emma said, tugging on her mother's arm. "Come on, Mom. It's good seeing you again, Harry. You, too, Willow."

As the Vance women hurried away, Harry immediately turned to Buffy. She knew what was coming and attempted to hurry through the crowd back to retrieve their luggage. Once they had arrived at the location, she couldn't stop the flood of questions from her younger brother, who had an unquenchable curiosity that made him the perfect Gryffindor. He knew that she knew more than she was letting on, since she hadn't spoken since saying goodbye to Emma. And yet… he didn't know.

Once they had picked up their luggage, they were halfway to one of the exits when another voice, this time a male one, called out, "Buffy!"

She turned, and judging by the look on her face, it was someone she really wasn't expecting to see. Dropping her suitcase, she ran across the floor, her carry-on and purse digging painfully in her hip as she reached the person who had called and threw her arms around him.

Harry just snorted, rolled his eyes, and walked away while Willow watched the happy couple, her head tilted slightly. Pulling herself out of her reverie, she and Harry reached the doors and were soon called to by the happy couple, now trouping hand-in-hand across the floor.

"Look who I happened to pick up," Buffy said, smiling fondly up at Oliver, who beamed down at her before turning to greet both Harry and Willow.

It was another hour before they finally reached the flat. Willow took in the rather bleak neighborhood but didn't want to comment until she was inside the apartment. It turned out to be on the third floor and the elevator was something that had been invented in medieval times she decided. It was so rickety she supposed it would have been safer to fly an airplane to this room.

The apartment itself was somewhat of a surprise. From what she had been able to gather, Harry's parents had left him with quite a bit of money. Combined with the small fortune given to their first-born, it was obviously being spent on this flat. Their furniture was warm and modern, with three fireplaces, which were essential in communicating with the outside Wizarding world, or so Harry told her. There were large bay windows which overlooked a quaint little park across the street. The kitchen was small and almost all silver and black metal. There were two bedrooms on the single floor and two more up a small set of stairs leading into a loft. And after a quick tour of the flat, Willow realized she was going to enjoy living here.

The bookshelves in the living room were crammed full of books with titles like, "Security Issues for Wizards" and "101 Friendly Household Pests for Any Muggle". The tea set on the end table kept sprouting hot water and skating across the smooth surface. The television set appeared to be possessed, since it would either turn on at the strangest time or else a figure would walk across the screen while it was turned off and start shouting at whomever was within distance. Even odder still was the fact that five times a day things flew through the fireplace on the far wall, landing with a thud on the floor in front of the television. The plants in the room were also quite strange to Willow's eye, as they kept flowering and shedding their petals. The radio that always seemed to be on played strange music from the Wizarding Wireless Network. The rug on the floor kept changing colors. There were endless examples on why this flat wasn't any normal flat.

Willow finally closed herself up in the small bedroom underneath the loft. It was one of the two guest rooms and Willow was only too happy to claim it. Until the mirror started sniggering at her unkempt and scruffy appearance, asking her if she preferred to roll with hogs instead of living among the… living. The mirror was so bad at punning that Willow drew a cover over it as it snickered and called her some rather rude names.

Even as she showered in the miniscule bathroom she and Harry were unfortunate enough to share, she slept for awhile, only waking up when the sounds of explosions came from the living room. Rising and dressing, Willow walked into the room to find two identical redheads standing in front of a very stunned looking Buffy. One was apologizing profusely while cleaning up the bits of shattered coffee cup at her feet with their wand. The other was bestowing a bouquet of flowers that were singing some high-pitched, obnoxious tune, calling it a homecoming gift.

"Willow!" Buffy cried, finally glad to have something else to draw her attention to. "Get over here!"

Willow walked until she was standing next to Buffy, who immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her in front of her rather petite form. "You guys remember Willow, right?" she asked brightly.

"Oh, she's a bitty little redhead!" one of the twins in a striped shirt said, beaming enigmatically at her.

"She's cute for a redhead," the other said, grinning at her. "She could pass for one of us."

"She could pass for one of us," the first said, his eyes widening. "Is she Yankee?"

"Of course I'm a Yankee," Willow said, folding her arms. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not related to anyone on this side of the ocean. If I was, I'd have to go and drown myself in that fishtank called a bathtub in the other room!"

"We're not that bad," said the first twin, looking revolted.

"Yeah, we're not, are we Teeny Tiny?" the second asked, yelling in the direction of the Kitchen, where she was hastily preparing lunch.

"I heard that!" came her sing-song reply.

Lunch, as was usual with the Weasley twins, was chaotic and quite entertaining. When Fred, the one who had first spoken to her had snorted something from his nose, it actually grew legs and started tapdancing. Willow was so mortified that Harry actually stood up, walked to the other side of the table, and slapped the back of Fred's head with a disgusted glare. George completely topped it though when the glasses they were all drinking from developed fangs and tried to snap off the mouths that tried to drink from them.

Buffy was quite happy to see the twins again. Things hadn't really been strained between them, even when they'd seen her as a marked woman. They had taken it all with a swift bit of humor, especially during their Hogwarts visits. "Here comes the Queen of Voldemort!" the would say. Harry said they had treated him the same way when everyone thought he had been Salazar Slytherin's heir. Buffy was grateful they weren't too angry, although she could hardly see why.

However, the truth came to her that afternoon. Since the twins had come by to meet Buffy's newest roommate, she welcomed their company, even offering chips and dip, which had been the extent of their lunch. Oliver had departed as soon as Buffy had walked in the door for the Ministry, and Harry was eager to write to Ron and Hermione.

It was around mid-afternoon when Fred saw Buffy sitting on the outside veranda, on a chaise lounge with a bottle of beer resting on the table next to her, her issue of Vogue in her hands.

"I was hoping I could see you alone," he said in a low voice, taking the other lounge chair on the opposite end of the table.

"It's nice to see you too," she said with a sunny smile, which wavered the instant she saw the dark and very serious look in his eyes. She lowered her sunglasses and set her magazine aside. "You have a serious face, and I'm not liking it," she realized.

"I realize I do, for the first time ever," Fred replied as he stared out at the park before turning back to look at the woman he respected a hell of a lot more than he ever thought he'd respect anyone. "Buffy… we have to talk about what happened last year."

"Between us?" she asked lightly, not wanting to dwell on this subject, especially since George would make both of their lives truly miserable if he ever got wind of any of it. "Or—"

"Not… not that," Fred said quickly. "I meant about the night you went all…"

"The night I got the power," Buffy replied, her hand unconsciously reaching for the tiny pendant she always wore. "You know that it's not really a popular topic with me, right?"

"I get it," Fred said quickly, looking the other way. "I just… you know. You've told everyone and their mother about what happened, but considering that George and I were your first friends, besides our revolting brother," he added, making a grotesque face, "I would really have liked to hear it from you instead of the Quibbler."

Buffy felt a slight twinge of guilt as she looked at the park across the road. Finally, she sighed. "I… I know this is going to sound either silly or stupid, but I did it because you're the only two who have ever treated me normally. If you'd known the real me… I was worried I was going to lose all of that."

"What would make you think that?" Fred demanded, staring hard at her now. "You're the bloody third arm of our little operation, Potter."

"I think you know why," she admitted before turning to meet his gaze. "I watched how bad Percy had it because of his little… argument. I don't want to lose your family, Fred. They're pretty much the family I have over here, besides Harry, really."

Fred's face seemed to relax a bit as he turned back to stare at the sunlight. "I just wish you'd been honest."

"I haven't been honest with myself," Buffy retorted, folding her arms. "How could I be honest with you? I mean, look at what we've been through together…"

"I remember," he said, and as he turned away, he smiled. "I'm just worried that the next time you turn all dark-magic, you'll die and I won't…" He trailed off then. "Well, thanks for the little chat. It's probably going to end up being the one time you'll ever have a serious conversation with me."

"Anytime," Buffy murmured as Fred left her to her own disturbing thoughts.

Oliver returned shortly before nightfall that evening and found Buffy still out on the terrace, the same bottle in her hands as she stared at the lights from the cars below.

"You okay?" he asked, gently wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

"Five by five," she replied automatically.

"In other words, you're not," Oliver said, hugging her to him. "Do I have to guess what's on your mind or are you going to give me a little hint?"

"It's just been a weird kind of day," she admitted, turning to him. "Don't worry… I'll be back to normal Buffy sooner than you think." She feigned a bright smile. "See? Buffy's back."

Oliver wasn't fooled, not for a moment. He'd known her a year now, and that wasn't speaking of their mixed signals and their hormonal drives in the beginning. She was the closest thing he had ever known, and seeing her in some sort of inner turmoil was causing his own heart to throb rather painfully against his chest.

Harry managed to make them a small salad for dinner, but Buffy barely picked at it. Shortly before nine, the fireplace came to life again and Percy appeared. Willow fought back her own emotions when she saw the angst in the embrace Buffy and Percy shared. While it didn't have any of the romantic inclusion that the embrace with Oliver had, theirs held love, respect and a lot of powerful emotions. Percy glanced at her as she pulled back. "You okay?" he asked, echoing Oliver's words of just a few hours before.

"I'm… well, you know," she said vaguely, tilting her head outdoors. Percy followed her, closing the door behind him.

"I take it your homecoming hasn't been what you thought it'd be," he said under his voice as he joined her at the railing.

"Did you do it?" she asked quietly.

"I made the call right after you asked," Percy replied, running a hand through his red curls. "Don't worry. They'll be there in the morning, waiting for you. Is this what's bothering you?" he asked, as sudden realization hit him.

"Harry doesn't know," Buffy replied. "I don't want him to, not yet."

"He's going to figure it out, especially if he gets the Daily Prophet like so many in our world do," Percy pointed out.

"Will you be there?" she asked, turning back to face him.

"Do you want me to be?" he asked curiously. She nodded. "I guess I'll see you at ten, then."

"Sounds good to me," Buffy replied, as she saw Harry inside, Hedwig on his arm. "I really should tell him what happened… but… I don't know how he's going to take it."

"Just tell him," Percy replied. "It'll be over before you know it. I'll even distract the other girl."

"Willow, Perce. Her name is Willow," Buffy said, a smile playing around her lips. Willow was sitting in one of the very comfortable chairs by the crackling fire, poring over the many magical books she and Harry had managed to acquire for the flat. "Send him out?"

Percy grasped her hand before disappearing inside. She waited only a short minute before Harry appeared, Hedwig flying off into the night over their heads.

"Buffy? What's wrong? Percy said you wanted to talk to me," Harry said, his voice full of worry.

"Something happened Friday morning, Harry," Buffy said, her hands folding and unfolding as she thought of a way to tell her brother what she was about to tell him. "It's about Aunt Petunia and… our cousin."

"What?" Harry gasped, stunned. "Are they… are they all right?"

Buffy shook her head no. "Dudley's okay. He's spending some time in St. Mungo's, so he'll be okay. But Aunt Petunia…" Her voice trailed off as bitter tears came to her eyes. Harry reached out to grasp her hand as he saw the anguish across her face. "They tortured her, maimed her. They abused her… they cursed and hexed her. They did this all in front of Uncle Vernon after they finished hurting Dudley. They were able to break the charm on the house because you weren't there… they knew what they were doing… and they didn't stop. They hurt her… they pushed her…"

He saw that this was causing some trouble for her, especially since Petunia was the one relative she had alive she actually could tolerate aside from Harry.

"They incinerated her, Harry," she finally said, staring out into the darkness. "They razed the house to the ground. By the time the Aurors got there, Uncle Vernon was gone. What they did with him… I don't know. All I know is that Aunt Petunia was tortured before they finally killed her. And Dudley…" Her voice cracked finally under the strain of hiding this truth for the entire weekend. "Dudley was tortured to the point where they drove him to insanity. Our cousin's insane, just like he always thought we were…"

Harry could barely take any of this in. His relatives had been bastards, yes, especially since they had made his own life a living hell. But he was terrified. He had felt his scar burning so brightly as he slept, yet he'd been unable to wake up, as though he were being smothered…

"Buffy," he asked suddenly, "why did they get through? What made them get through the barrier?"

"Me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Harry… my blood's been tainted because of this." She pressed her hand to the Dark Mark, still existing under the silky texture of her blouse. "They were able to just walk in and do whatever they liked because I have Potter blood, the blood that inadvertently passed over the protective barrier, allowing them to… to… I don't think anyone has a word for what they've done."

"How did you know?" Harry asked, his voice lost in the awe he felt at hearing what he'd just been told.

"I guess this Mark is both a blessing and a curse," she said bitterly. "I knew what they were doing because I could sense it… and now… we've just lost our last link to the Muggle world. Our Aunt is dead, our Uncle is God-knows-where and Dudley has just received a one-way ticket to insanity."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, his shock giving way to anger. "I'm an adult, Buffy, I can take anything they can throw at me."

"I didn't tell you because I chose not to," Buffy replied, her voice hardening. "Don't you dare start blaming me for things I thought were responsible, especially since you've had enough weight on your shoulders ever since this blasted war began."

He watched as she passed behind him, retreating to the shadows under the eaves. "I'm not mad because of that… it's just that, you should have told me. I lived with them. I grew up with them. I had a right to know."

"It's only the beginning of what's to come," Buffy said, her voice echoing from the shadows. "I can feel this huge storm coming. More people are going to die. War is crazy and stupid and people die. I just don't want it to be you."

Harry quietly walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. "I won't get myself killed in some stupid play if that's what you're asking," he assured her.

She didn't look convinced. "Harry, if you're anything like the Dad according to Lupin and Sirius, we're in trouble."

"What's going on tomorrow?" Harry asked casually. "I know it had something to do with Emmeline Vance. She was in the Order, I met her last year."

"I told Percy to get the Order together," Buffy replied. "He's the one who has the link to Dumbledore again, so he made the call. Emmeline was over in Africa. Emma was in Greece. Every single member of the Order from all over the world are being gathered. I think it's because of these dreams Faith and I have been having that I finally realized something."

"What do you know?" he asked her, dread in his heart already.

"He's moving, Harry. He's planning the last offensive and if we don't act soon, no one is going to survive what's coming," Buffy replied, moving back into the light. Her eyes had a strange sparkle to them and she was frowning rather deeply. "He's coming for you, and there is nothing I can do to stop him. Because if he calls…" Her voice trailed off again.

"If he calls and you don't go to him, you're dead, aren't you?" he asked flatly.

She nodded. "I guess you see the reason why I'm leaving in a few weeks, huh?"

"I understand why," Harry admitted grudgingly. "It doesn't mean I'll accept it."

She walked over and hugged him then, rather tightly. "I love you, you big goof."

"I love you, too, you little brat," he said teasingly, tipping her chin.

Together, the Potter siblings went inside.

- - - - -

Buffy was the last person to go to bed, as was usual in her household. The satellite dish just held so many more options than going to bed at the ungodly hour of ten in the evening, which is when Oliver, by his set Quidditch standards and rules, turned in.

She slipped in under the covers next to him, careful not to disturb him. She was nearly there when his sleepy voice dryly commented, "Your feet are cold."

Smirking, she pressed them to his shins. "You gonna make them better?"

His hands reached out in the darkness and pulled her down to him. "I always make it better," he said, smiling sleepily.

She found that she couldn't quite disagree.

Morning came, and with it the usual tapping on the window. Buffy rose, wrapped herself in a robe, and made her way to the window where an owl was waiting patiently. After paying it, she walked back to the bed, opening the Daily Prophet. Oliver was still wrapped in the warm blankets and refused to move, while she sat on the bed next to him, crinkling the paper loudly and muttering to herself. It was their normal morning routine, and since both of their bad habits drove the other quite out of their mind, it was something that seriously needed to be worked on.

He broke first, and grumbling took the bathroom. She smiled cheekily, dumped the paper on the bed, and skipped downstairs to make coffee. Willow was already awake, curled on the sofa, reading yet another one of the books.

"Don't you ever get bored of those?" Buffy asked with a yawn as she plugged in her grinder and poured the beans on top.

"I don't see it happening any time soon," Willow replied back as she carefully marked her page and closed the book. "What's on tap today?"

Buffy smiled as she added the grounds to the filter and turned the machine on. "How would you like a first-hand account of London?"

"I'm assuming your presence isn't going to be had," Willow said, seeing the serious look on the Slayer's face.

"Harry will be going with you," Buffy replied, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. "I have a meeting this morning and it really is one he's not ready for. I figure to have a mega-Wicca with him can only help him… if there's something bad that happens."

"I'll do my best, Buff, but it really isn't that much, compared to what you've learned and all," Willow replied, rising and walking to the island. Buffy had moved to the refrigerator and was pulling out a loaf of bread, jam and butter. Setting a toaster on the island, she plugged it in and pushed it to Willow, who started to make herself breakfast.

"Thanks, Wil," Buffy said, giving her a genuine smile. "I knew I could count on you."

Harry appeared ten minutes later with the smell of toast cooking. After handing him a mug of coffee, Buffy retreated upstairs just as Oliver stomped down, grumbling under his breath as he toweled off his hair. Harry hid a smirk behind his hand while Willow looked curiously at her best friend's boyfriend.

"It's their thing," Harry explained between mouthfuls of toast. "She makes him angry and he gets his cranky on, or so she calls it. He gets her back and she'll be all hostile. They always make up before the day is up. Honestly, I can't see these two living together."

"He doesn't live here?" Willow asked in surprise as she wrapped her hands around the warm mug.

"He's just staying here because his brother and sister are at home. That, and he never gets to see her anymore," Harry replied, taking another slice of bread and sticking it into the toaster. "So, what's going on today?"

"You're going to show me around London," Willow replied automatically.

"Oh, better known as Buffy's protection technique?" Harry asked lightly while Willow nodded miserably as she sipped at her coffee. "I should have known she wouldn't want me to go to the Order meeting today."

"The Order?" Willow asked curiously, wincing as Oliver walked into the Kitchen, poked his head inside the refrigerator, and returned a moment later with a bottle of orange juice. He certainly did look unpleasant, no matter how adorable he was. He poured himself a glass and, sipping it, retreated upstairs. A few moments later, they heard a loud shriek and the sound of muffled laughter from behind the closed door.

"See? I told you it always happens," Harry said, taking his toast and adding liberal amounts of butter and jam to it.

Willow returned to her room and dressed quickly. When she came out, Harry stared at her a moment before his jaw opened and he laughed. Willow knew she looked like a tourist, right down to the map and the digital camera she'd managed to get the past Christmas from her parents.

Buffy and Oliver emerged from her room a few minutes after, both of them dressed and arguing quite plainly about the difference between thread-count on sheets.

Harry snorted with impatience and checked his watch. "Let's go. It'll be noon before these two finally get anywhere."

"I heard that!" Buffy shouted after him. "Be careful, you two! I don't want to find my brother dead in some brothel when you get back!"

Willow just gave Buffy a quick wave before ducking out.

Oliver had taken Harry's old seat and was now making himself toast. "So, we finally have this place to ourselves."

"If you didn't have to leave for work, I'd have to do something about that," Buffy said, coming up behind him and taking her coffee. Their eyes met and she pulled back, clearing her throat slightly. "Have they made up their minds yet?" she asked.

He shrugged. "As soon as they do, one of the other unions pipes up. Honestly, they can't make up their minds about anything!" he said, looking frustrated as his toast popped up.

"That sounds like the Ministry," she said as she sipped at her coffee. "I do hope they eventually let you out, since you'll be out of here in a few weeks…" Her voice trailed off.

"Did you actually think we could live together?" Oliver asked her incredulously as she stared at him, her hazel eyes burning into his.

"It's not like it matters, anyway," Buffy replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I'll be gone in a few weeks and you'll be off playing Quidditch for Scotland again. So, I figure, we play now and deal later."

"I like the way your mind works," he said, handing her a slice of toast before turning to eat the other.

"Nice distraction," she said, arching one eyebrow as she munched on her toast.

"Well, I had to do something. You're wearing your tense face. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say that you're worried about this meeting today."

"Worried is a bit of an understatement," Buffy said, draining her mug and setting it aside. "There's something big and bad coming and for once, this Slayer is out of this fight and into another."

"Why did you have to be the one to make the call?" Oliver asked as he finished his own breakfast and began to clean up the small Kitchen.

"I see things," Buffy replied uncomfortably, twisting in her spot. "Besides, I'm the one with the Mark and it's not like half of the Order trusts the only other person in the group who has the same Mark."

"You mean Snape?" Oliver asked curiously as he set the dishes in the sink. "I think I'd much rather have you calling the shots."

She moved forward to set her cup in the sink. As she pulled away, he took her by the shoulders. "Be careful, okay?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers. "I don't need you to be all stressed out, especially since Harry's been high-strung since you told him last night and your friend from California's here."

"I know," she said, relaxing against him. "I'll be careful. I promise."

"That's all I ask," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I should probably go."

"Me, too," she said, and they both walked out of the Kitchen and came to a stop in front of the fireplace. She took the pot of Floo powder and offered it to him first. He took some and, as he stepped into the fire, threw his handful down, saying "Ministry of Magic – London."

She took her own handful and spoke clearly, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

In a vast rush of green flames, Buffy once again found herself in her favored method of Wizarding travel – fire.

She appeared in the fireplace of Grimmauld Place. As she stood up, an arm caught hers and pulled her upwards. She found herself face-to-face with Harry's godfather and Faith's older brother, Sirius Black. "Hey," she said as he pulled her out of the way of the fireplace, which had sprung to life again.

The dining room was rather full despite the fact the meeting didn't start for another hour yet. Buffy soon greeted Lupin and Tonks and the newly arriving Vance women. The Weasleys soon descended from the rooms they'd spent the night in and Buffy found herself welcoming a warm reunion with the family she'd never had.

Molly was gracious as usual, hugging the Potter girl warmly. Arthur was next, firing off as many questions as he could during the two minutes they had to talk before the next group of people arrived. Buffy noticed that Charlie and Bill had come with them and found herself chatting with them before Sirius pulled her away.

"I heard you saw my sister," he said gruffly.

"That's right," Buffy replied quickly; she'd just spotted Percy leaving the Dining Room, looking mortified at the direction the conversation within was heading. "I said goodbye to her on Friday."

"We'll talk later," Sirius said, patting her arm as Percy walked breathlessly over to her and pulled her into a corner. Opening his cloak, he handed her a folder.

"It's all here," he said as she opened it, checking everything. He saw the relief pass across her face. "Is it good?"

"It works," she said, setting the folder aside as Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape all arrived. Dumbledore called the meeting to order in the drawing room upstairs and more than forty people found themselves settling in chairs and lining up around the walls. Buffy sat down between Percy and Emma on the couch and stared avidly at the man who, up until a month ago, she had called her Headmaster.

The first thing Dumbledore did was welcome the Witches and Wizards who had come in for the meeting from abroad. He also welcomed the three newest members of the Order, which included Buffy and Emma. And then he started talking.

"I have called you all here today to discuss the dire situation that has fallen upon us," Albus began, glancing at all of the worried, dire faces around him. "From a rather hard-core source, we have uncovered the latest of Voldemort's plans, one of which was carried out late last week: the death of one Miss Petunia Dursley. He was thus hoping that Harry Potter would still reside where his blood protection would be greatest. Not being there, there was no protection left and it left the house open to massacre.

"He has gathered many more followers this past summer from use of both the Imperious curse and many, many other methods. The attack on the Dursleys is just the beginning, I'm afraid."

He continued talking about the past few attacks on Muggles and the last attempt to make the Muggle world more painfully aware of the Wizarding world that co-existed with them.

Buffy was painfully aware that she had seen all of this coming. She listened intently as the discussion turned to tactics.

It was then she felt it, just under the surface. It was a prickling pain and her hand reached down to clutch her tattoo. Percy saw her movement and his eyes narrowed as his gaze turned immediately to Professor Snape, who had made no movement and gave no indication he felt anything. But Buffy had averted her eyes downward. There was definitely something wrong.

- - - - -

"Are you sure you don't mind this Harry?"

"What? Oh, no," Harry replied, glancing at the large carousel in front of them. "Although, isn't that more of a child's toy?"

"It's for any age," Willow replied, giving him a dry look as she pulled her daypack onto her back and quickly paid two carnival tickets for the ride.

They had just spent the past two hours browsing through the different markets. Willow seemed perfectly happy to torture Harry with the prospect of dragging him through as many stores as possibly without buying anything. She called it window shopping. He preferred to call it a waste of time.

At the end of one particular market, they had come upon a small charity carnival. Willow, deciding to pursue torturing Harry, had dragged him to it. After a half hour of throwing rings around water glasses and winning stuffed animals as large as him, they had finally come to the one event that seemed the most popular – an old-fashioned merry-go-round. Willow had immediately gone for the small pack of carnival tickets she had left. And Harry had been forced to lug around the rather large black-and-white dog she'd won in the ring-toss. It wasn't until she waved him through that he decided that he had get her back, torture her somehow. She was having way too much fun with this.

Harry set down the dumb stuffed dog and took one of the beautiful horses. As the music began and the carousel began to move, Harry saw Willow sitting on the horse in front of him, her red hair blowing in the wind. Faces were surrounding them, several with cameras as over-excited little children waved enthusiastically as they rode past their winded parents. He saw other little kids pointing and waving to their friends. He saw teenagers snickering as they saw someone they knew and didn't like riding. All too quickly it came to him a memory of a long time ago… how much Dudley had liked riding the carousel.

The world came back to him in a startling rush. The ride was winding down and the music was starting to wane. As the cage stopped, he got back to his feet and grabbed the stuffed animal, burying his face in its fur. Willow saw the look on his face and pulled him away. "Let's go."

Outside, he was better able to breathe. Willow gave him plenty of space, looking guilty for indulging her childhood want. Sighing, she hugged him for a long minute before pulling back. "You feeling better, Harry? Do you want some soda or water?"

"Maybe later," he said, realizing that his stomach was still in knots, no matter how hungry he was. "It's just that… my cousin used to love the carousel. He… did Buffy tell you what happened to him?"

"No, she didn't," Willow said, her face switching from kindly to concern. "What happened?"

It took Harry a very painful ten minutes to tell her. Willow looked mortified and passed a hand over her face. "I knew something was bothering her… I never dreamed it could have been this."

"The thing is, I felt it. My scar burns when Voldemort goes off on his little missions to hurt the people I… I didn't really care about the Dursleys, but they were my family. Until last year, they were my only family. Now they're gone and… Dudley's insane. He'll never be able to see the true light of day again and I… I…"

Willow leaned over and hugged him again, holding him to her. "It's all right, Harry."

"How can you say that?" he asked, angry tears slipping from his eyes. "How can you tell me everything's going to be all right? My Aunt is dead! My cousin is insane and my Uncle is missing! My sister just went off to some secret meeting…"

"It's not like I haven't lost people, too," Willow said, a bitterness in her voice. "I lost my childhood best friend a few years ago. He was turned into a vampire."

Harry looked up at her tragic face, his eyes uncomprehending. "What?"

"It was horrible," Willow replied, folding her trembling hands. "I watched my best friend turn into a demon and there was nothing I could do except that… Well, I don't know. War happens. People die. In many cases, when someone wants to kill you, they'll know where to hit you. This guy whose been after you, he knows how to hurt you. He took your Aunt and Uncle and he claimed your sister last winter."

"There's only so much someone can take before they reach their breaking point," Harry replied quietly. "Voldemort wants to break me? Let him try… I've been almost dead before. I can take it."

"Don't say that!" Willow gasped. "Never, ever believe death is what it is. He wants to break you, Harry. He wants you weak."

"He's only making me stronger," Harry said, the tears gone now. What remained was a grim determination. "He can take my friends, my family and my hope. But in the end, he'll only be facing me."

Willow didn't really know what to say. She just patted his back in a sort of comforting matter she used to recall she got from her parents, when they used to give a damn about her. Rising, she saw the food vendors in the distance.

"Let's get some lunch, okay?" she asked him quietly.

"All right," Harry replied, getting up and following Willow, leaving the stuffed dog behind.

A few moments later, Willow realized this and hurried to collect him before her prize fell into the arms of some sugar-stuffed little kid.

- - - - -

"That was highly informative," Emma commented as she and Buffy walked downstairs to the dining room three hours later,

"Oh, completely," Buffy said, pinching her nose to get rid of the headache underneath the surface. "I need some caffeine and I need it badly."

"Try this," Emma said, opening the pantry and pulling out two bottles. She twisted the cap from one and handed it to her friend, who took it gratefully. It was then her eyes spied a folder sitting on the edge of one of the counters. "What's that?"

"The coroner's report," Buffy replied, leaning over to retrieve it. "You know, the regular police coroner's report?"

"Why did you want that for?" Emma asked quietly.

"I have to know if my Aunt's death was considered anything other than natural," Buffy replied. "I know the Aurors have their own copy, but Percy was kind enough to get me this." She opened the folder and started scanning the contents intently.

"Oh, my…" Emma whispered, reading over Buffy's shoulder. "Those are… pretty detailed."

"Yeah, they are," Buffy said, finally coming to a spot where photographs had been added. The first one took her breath away. It was a picture of Dudley and the entire package attached to it were pictures showing the extent of his injuries. Pressing a hand to her twisted stomach, she came to the pictures of Petunia. And the pictures of the house were last.

"Those are horrible," Emma said, her dark eyes wide with shock. "Buffy, I…"

"It's okay," she said, closing the folder at last and setting it aside again. "When this meeting is over, I'm going to go to Privet Drive. I know Surrey is a ways away, so I'm hoping for some wacky travel voucher."

"Does… does Dumbledore know you have that information?" Emma asked tentatively.

"I'm not sure," Buffy said with a shrug. "The point is, this is what I do."

"Miss Potter, Miss Vance, how… nice to see you both."

Emma let out a tiny squeak. Even at seventeen, the presence of her former Potions teacher was still quite horrifying.

"I was wondering if I may speak to Miss Potter alone, Vance."

"Of course," Emma said, and all but dashed away. Buffy took her bottle and the folder and walked over to the table where Severus Snape was standing.

"What's up?" she asked him, dropping into one of the crooning chairs. Seeing the look on his face, she rolled her eyes. "Did you have something you wanted to talk about, or am I just supposed to guess the reason for the look-of-impending-doom on your face?"

"I know that you were in some considerable pain during these past few hours," he finally replied, staring hard at her. "I, too, felt this pain." His hand indicated his left-sleeve and Buffy's hand moved unconsciously to cover her own tattoo.

"I guess we all have a few scars to worry about," she mumbled as she drank her soda. "It doesn't really bother me anymore. Do you know how active this was last year?"

"This is only the beginning," Snape said in his ominous voice.

"You know what? That's bull," Buffy snapped, losing control of her patience completely. "This stupid war began when Voldemort started taking sides, right? My parents died in the war. This may be the second war, but it is far from the beginning. In fact, I think it's coming to an end."

"How would you know?" Severus asked, his calculating eyes never leaving her face.

"These attacks are becoming personal," Buffy replied. "I think Voldemort is trying to attack Harry to make him weak. He already got me. He just needed a little incentive for his Muggle relatives and he got that. Our only living relatives are either dead or driven to insanity, and I don't think that…" Her words trailed off and she stared hard at the folder before her. "I have to go to Surrey. Do you think I could use a Portkey?"

"I am certain it could be arranged," Severus replied. "About your reasoning, I know that it may seen that this war is almost over…"

"It has to be," Buffy said, standing up. "Harry's getting toward the end of his tether. If this war doesn't end soon, it'll break him. I'm not going to watch it happen. I'll die first." Turning, she collected her things and disappeared back upstairs.

- - - - -

Harry and Willow both collected their hot dogs and oversized lemonades and made their way back through the carnival.

"Thanks for lunch," Willow told him, smiling as she added vast amounts of condiments to the top of her foot-long treat.

"No problem," Harry replied as he jammed a straw in the top of his drink. "Should we find a place to eat this?"

"Sure," Willow replied, watching Harry eye the rather American foot-long warily. Her lips twitched as though she were holding in laughter as she led the way across the grounds.

They found a picnic table on the far end of the park and ate quietly. Harry really didn't want to think all of these dark thoughts that kept threatening to erupt. Willow didn't want to push him, although she was only beginning to get her tourist on.

She noticed that Harry suddenly reached up for his scar, his eyes widening. Willow could see her own mortified face reflected in the bright green gems. "What is it?" she asked.

"I… I don't know," Harry replied, pressing his hand to his scar. "I just feel…"

Her eyes lifted from his face and widened in horror. There were figures approaching… figures in long, black cloaks. "Would it have anything to do with the fact that there's a bunch of guys in long black cloaks after us?"

"You know, that may be it," Harry replied sarcastically, turning to look behind him. His face froze, a mask of horror. "Run."

Both Willow and Harry took off across the park and reached a fence. Harry cleanly scaled it and waited to help Willow over to the other side. When they turned to the street, they saw an entire semi-circle of black-cloaks waiting for them.

"What do we do?" Willow asked, whimpering.

"This way," Harry said, and they took off towards the right, running as fast as they could, their lunch and the stupid stuffed animal abandoned.

Figures were coming at them from all angles, and Harry saw the flash of a wand every few paces. Stopping abruptly, he took Willow's arm and pulled her into an alley.

"Keep running!" he said as he heard Willow's boots clicking on the pavement behind them. "Keep—"

His voice was cut off as a figure came from nowhere.

"Harry!" Willow screamed as Harry went flying into the brick wall. "No!"

Two figures came up from behind her and held onto her arms, dragging her backwards. She fought them off, finally winning over by elbowing one in the head and kicking the other one in the legs before throwing herself in front of Harry. "Get out of here!" she said angrily, holding out her arms to protect Harry as he struggled to his feet, looking dazed.

"Out of my way, you stupid mudblood," the man hissed.

"Malfoy," Harry muttered behind her.

"I'm no mudblood," Willow snapped, raising her hands, closing her eyes. She felt something pass from the ground beneath her feet to her fingertips. The power went outwards, knocking all three off of their feet. Turning, she helped Harry straighten up and both ran out of the alley and into the street.

"Okay, who are those guys?" she gasped.

"Death Eaters," Harry rasped. "They're the ones that want to… Willow, look out!"

He heard her scream as she was hexed across the cobblestone street. Harry turned, pulling out his own wand as Willow collapsed. "Stay away from her!" he shouted as twelve Death Eaters began to surround him.

"Take the Mudblood," came Lucius Malfoy's slippery tone. "We will make her an example of why our power wins over all…"

"You will not touch her," Harry snarled, lifting his wand to the two Death Eaters that had stepped forward.

"No," said a sharp female voice as a feminine hand whipped off her hood. "No, baby Potter. You can't touch this." There was a flash and a beautiful dagger was in her hand. "She is going to bleed and you are going to watch."

"Like hell I am," Willow said, throwing off the curse completely as she stood up, glaring at the woman standing before her. "I'm taking that."

Harry was pulled back forcefully, his wand falling and rolling away. He could only cry out as Bellatrix Lestrange and Willow fought. It was over rather quickly as Bellatrix was kicked down to the curb. Willow dodged her wild hex and turned, only to come face-to-face with her husband.

Harry didn't have time to react as the knife Willow now carried was turned against its wielder. He shouted, cried out as it sank into Willow's stomach. With a groan, she fell to her knees.

"Willow! No! Let… me… go!" Harry cried, struggling against the constraints holding him away from the best friend of his sister.

There was the sound of popping as Aurors suddenly appeared, but Harry could only watch as bright colors flashed before his eyes as he stumbled over to Willow, who was lying on her side, her hands cradling the dagger still digging into her abdomen. The cobblestone street was already stained with her blood.

"Harry… get out of here…" she whispered, her face turning grey as she looked at him. "Just… go…"

"I'm not leaving you," he said, reaching for the knife, but her bloody hand knocked his own away.

"Please… just go… you can't die… not now…"

"Willow, no," Harry said resolutely as he reached for her again. "I'm not leaving you," he repeated emphatically.

"It's… not worth… your life…"

Harry stood up and turned to go when a cold hand clasped his shoulder.

He turned about.

And his jaw dropped open.

- - - - -

Ends on a cliffhanger, I know. Next, reader's and reviewer's comments to be posted next chapter.


	2. The Gathering, Part II

- - - - -

**Chapter 2**

**The Gathering, Part II**

- - - - -

Buffy was halfway back to the sitting room when her tattoo burned bright red underneath her white blouse. With a sharp gasp, she fell against the railing and dropped what she was carrying, papers from the coroner's flying in every direction to the entryway below.

Her cry of alarm alerted those upstairs to her presence, and led by Professor Dumbledore, they found Buffy sitting on the stairs, breathing hard, trying to fight something that they couldn't see.

"Buffy?" Dumbledore asked quietly as she turned to him, looking as though she were in the deepest state of torment.

"Professor… Harry… danger…" she whispered, her eyes starting to roll. "He's… going… to…" There were tears of frustration in her eyes now. "I… saw… him… going…"

The Aurors in the staircase all exchanged troubled looks before brushing past the group and hurrying outdoors so they could Apparate to wherever Harry was and help him. The call to the Ministry was made, but apparently the Aurors from the Ministry had already gone to Harry's rescue.

"Go," Buffy said, closing her eyes. "Go to him… please?" she asked, glancing at her former Headmaster, desperation in her eyes. "I have… to fight this…"

Professor Dumbledore respected her enough to pull away and do as she asked. Percy remained by her side, along with Emma, who came out of the room with her mother, the last of the Aurors to leave the house.

"Buffy?" Percy asked quietly.

"I'll be okay, Perce," she said, turning her head and catching the mess of flying papers and broken glass below. "Oh."

"We'll pick that up," Emma told her gently. Both Percy and Emma went to pick up the papers and the mess as Sirius approached from above.

He gently helped her back to her feet. She steadied herself on his arm and glanced down, seeing the people talking in hushed whispers below, along with the sound of intermittent portraits talking. "Look at them all," she said quietly.

"Harry will be fine," Sirius said, gently turning her in the other direction. "Come on, let's get you back upstairs."

She had taken one step when a deep feeling that something else was even more wrong came to her. She grabbed onto the railing, halting their progress. "I have to go… I have to get there," she said, pulling away from Sirius. He looked dumbfounded as she turned and raced down the stairs, landing at the end by pressing herself against the wall, trying to calm the deep migraine now firmly implanting itself in her skull.

"Harry," she whispered, feeling his panic as though she were feeling the same thing. She heard voices behind her and turned just as she fell to her knees, losing sense of everything around her. In her mind, she could feel Willow and Harry running as fast as they could, yet there were too many… It wasn't just Harry in danger anymore…

"The Death Eaters… they're coming for them," she whispered as Percy ran to her side. "I have to get there…"

She heard a whisper as Dumbledore reappeared, handing her one of the tacky hats Faith had left hanging along the corridor. "Take this," he said. "It will take you to the alley."

"I'll go, too," Percy said, but Buffy's hand quickly batted his away.

"No, I don't want you to get hurt," she said, taking the hat from Professor Dumbledore. "When?"

"Thirty seconds," he replied. Buffy nodded and dashed past the rest of the group just as she felt the irresistible tug forward, and everything became a hazy blur.

- - - - -

Harry felt his jaw drop as he noticed who was standing behind him.

It was Lupin.

"Come on, Harry," he said, pulling him away from the wounded woman. "Trained medi-Wizards are coming."

Time seemed to stand still as Harry watched the Aurors fight back the Death Eaters, who eventually turned, ran and Disapparated. At last, he heard another familiar voice.

"Harry? Harry? Harry!?"

"I'm here," he said, although no sound came out of his mouth. The medi-Wizards had arrived and were now bent over Willow. He saw his sister pushing her way through the Aurors and she stopped at Harry, throwing her arms around him. She was followed by Arthur Weasley who looked as immensely relieved to see Harry alive as his sister did.

"Oh, thank goodness! Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"Buffy… Willow," he said, his voice breaking. He saw the look on her face as she whipped around and saw her best friend lying on the street.

"Willow? Oh, God," she said, noticing the bloody dagger lying on the street as the Wizards were gently applying bandages to her deep stab wound. "Willow? Willow?" Her voice became feebler as she pushed her way between two of the medics to go to her best friend. "Willow, answer me…"

"Buffy… I tried… to get him away," Willow said, her bloody hand rising in the air. Buffy took it firmly in hers. She made another soft moan before passing out from her loss of blood and the shock to her system.

"Willow," Buffy moaned, pulling back, her face stunned. She looked truly alone as she pulled back and turned to see Harry standing there, and their eyes met. Knowing the sacrifice her best friend had made for Harry was a shock to her system, but it came to show that Buffy alone wasn't after his best interest. She walked towards him when Bill Weasley took her arm and said something in her ear before handing her Harry's wand. She took it.

"Are you going back to the Burrow?" she asked him quickly.

"I need to make an appearance at the Ministry, but I can," he said, noticing the look on her face. "Why?"

"Take Harry with you. He'll be safe at the Burrow with Ron and Ginny. Or, at least, a hell of a lot safer than he is here…" Her gaze went back down to Willow and her hard gaze melted into anguish. "Please?"

"Okay," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll take him with me."

Together, Bill and Buffy went to where Bill's father and Lupin were standing with Harry, currently being questioned by Aurors.

"Harry," Buffy said, edging up to him. "I want you to go to the Burrow. Don't ask questions, you'll be safer there." She pulled out his wand and handed it to him. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Buffy?" Harry asked, just as one of the medi-Wizards came up to her and announced they were taking Willow to St. Mungo's.

"Please, just go," Buffy said, looking as though she couldn't take any more drama as she clasped his shoulder with her bloody hand. The blood that had come from the Wicca lying on the ground, potentially bleeding to death. "Please?"

"Buffy?" Harry asked, watching as she went back to the crowd. The arrival of Wizards and Witches was getting a lot of attention from the Muggles. Harry felt sickened as he noticed the growing pile of bloody gauze on the cobblestone street next to where Willow was still lying, passed out.

"Come on, Harry," Bill said from next to him, holding another Portkey in his hands. "It's safer this way."

"Buffy!" Harry shouted, just as he felt the invisible hook behind his navel drag him forward, and the image of his sister watching her friend being lifted from the ground was forever burned into his memory, as it was the last thing he saw.

Buffy saw her brother disappeared and sighed deeply just as Nymphadora Tonks appeared at her elbow. She was talking quietly to Lupin, both of their faces very grave.

"They're gone," Tonks said, glancing down at the redheaded girl now being loaded onto a stretcher. "How is she?"

"She's lost a lot of blood," Buffy said in a low voice, so much unlike her own. "They're taking her to St. Mungo's."

"Are you going them?" Remus asked her. Buffy nodded. "We'll ask Albus to hold the meeting, then."

"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "No. It has to go on. People need to know what's going on. I'll take care of Willow and I'll be back as soon as I can. Can you… can you tell him that?"

"Of course," Tonks replied, tapping Buffy's shoulder as she and Remus blended back into the crowd.

The next half hour passed in a blur. Buffy found herself riding in the back of what on the outside looked like a normal Muggle ambulance. But she was certain that inside it wasn't anything of the sort. Potions were neatly marked and were tied to the shelves covering the walls. The lights were a soft shade of neon blue. And the vehicle drove as though she were driving it, weaving in and out of traffic and finally driving into a brick wall. Buffy tried not to scream her alarm, but the instant they passed through the barrier, there were Witches on the other side, ready to accept the incoming patient.

An hour later, Buffy was finally able to see her.

Willow was still rather pale, but nearly completely healed. She watched as the medi-Witch in charge bent over Willow, gently tucking her sheets in. Standing inside the doorway was another nurse and Buffy saw to her surprise that the other nurse was completely familiar to her. "Cynthia?" she asked softly. "I thought…"

"Oh, yeah… this is my Mom," she said, gesturing to the medi-Witch who was currently checking Willow's vitals. "I kind of work here now."

"That's… good, right?" Buffy asked, frowning slightly.

Cynthia shrugged. "It's good pay."

Seeing that Willow had company, she moved to Buffy's side. "I have checked her for identification. Does she have any family?"

"I'm her family," Buffy said firmly.

"All right," the Witch said, turning to a clipboard with a quill that seemed to move across the parchment by itself. "We stopped the bleeding and managed to heal her cut. The problem is that the dagger had been poisoned to kill anyone with any magical blood. Luckily, she didn't seem to hold the poison. The only matter that remains is whether to provide a memory charm on her."

"No," Buffy said shortly. "No memory charms. She knows about the Wizarding world, even if she isn't one of us."

"As you wish, but I'll have to inform the Ministry of your decision," said the medi-Witch.

"Whatever," Buffy replied. "Can I see her?"

Buffy walked into the room and was surprised when Cynthia followed her, looking almost fearful.

"I never thought I'd ever see that girl again," the other woman admitted as Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for one of Willow's bandaged hands.

"Hey," she said softly.

Willow's eyelids fluttered open. "Buffy?" she asked softly. "Where… Harry?"

"He's okay," Buffy said. "He's been taken out of London."

"Thank goodness," Willow said weakly. "I was kind of worried that he'd be stuck in a bad place. I told him to get away…"

""He couldn't," Buffy replied. "He wasn't going to leave you behind."

"I tried… I tried to protect him, Buffy… but my magic… I'm so sorry…"

"You were up against twelve Death Eaters. They have the power to kill you with a curse and I'm glad they didn't do just that," Buffy insisted.

"They were going to… they wanted to… bleed me to teach Harry a lesson."

Cynthia overheard this as she walked to the other side of the bed, a cup of Potion in her hands. Her eyes were downward and sympathetic. She handed Willow the Potion and drew away from the room. Seizing her chance, she ran into the staff room and saw the fireplace. Jotting a quick note on a bit of parchment, she sent it off to the Ministry.

Buffy sat with Willow until she drifted off to sleep, the effects from the Potion. Rising, she turned and saw Emma Vance standing there. "Em," she said quietly, joining her friend as they made their way down the hallway.

"How is she?" Emma asked breathlessly.

"She'll live," Buffy replied as the doors swung shut behind them. "But now, I'm pissed."

- - - - -

Harry didn't have the chance to protest as he finally came to a jolting stop in front of the Burrow. No matter how much he'd been longing to be here this summer, he longed to be back with his sister, where he knew he was safe.

It didn't help that Bill disappeared about ten seconds after he arrived. He was even more agitated when Ron and Hermione spotted him and started asking many, many pointless questions. At the risk of not wanting to sound rude, he brushed past them and headed upstairs where he found himself staring at identical evil grins. Not even Fred and George would distract him, he thought miserably as he pushed past the evil duo. Locking himself in Ron's bedroom was the only way he was going to get time alone to think.

Ron's bedroom was the perfect escape. Sort of.

He wasn't sitting on the second bed for ten minutes when Ron walked in, closing the door and magically sealing it behind him. Harry didn't look up at him. He didn't move his face from where it was buried in his hands. Ron saw the anguish on Harry's face clear as day, and it scared him a little.

"Don't want to sound rude, mate, but you were sort of… rude," Ron said, walking over and sitting on his bed, where the bright orange Chudley Cannons comforter blazed under the bright sunshine filtering in through the arched windows. When Harry didn't reply, Ron continued. "Dad told us about what… what happened," he said quickly. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Harry said in a dead voice, looking up with dark green eyes full of anxiety. "I just wish… I just wish Buffy would trust me. I could have been there with her, but instead I'm some stupid brat who almost got her best friend killed."

Ron saw the look on Harry's face and looked away, his fingers idly playing with the comforter. "It wasn't your fault, Harry."

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied hoarsely, burying his face in his hands again. "I don't know if she can… I don't know…"

Ron didn't need Harry to finish speaking to know what he was thinking. "Dad said Mum's coming home in an hour or so," he said, somewhat cheerfully. "We might be going over to Sirius's."

That seemed to brighten Harry up rather slightly.

Molly sent word an hour later for the kids to take the Knight Bus to Grimmauld Place, but told them specifically to not give the number of the house. Feeling slightly better that he would see Sirius again, Harry was the first to stand in front of the door at the Burrow, waving Hermione, Ron and Ginny onwards. Fred and George were both accompanying them, more than likely on their Mother's orders, since Harry, Ginny and Hermione couldn't yet Apparate. Ginny and Hermione were still too young and Harry hadn't been in England long enough to get his Apparating license, something he really wanted to do before starting Hogwarts in just two weeks.

Fred and George were both rather quiet, and Harry knew they knew something he didn't know, but pressing them only seemed to make the matter worse.

After a walk towards the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, Fred made the call for the bus, and they boarded. The ride was rather short, if not the usual hell-like ride. When they finally arrived on the street corner on Grimmauld Place, the four Weasleys, Harry and Hermione got off the bus on rather shaky legs.

It was starting to turn towards evening, and the air was relatively cool for the time of year. After a small walk to number twelve, they all repeated the same gestures from the years before and were soon standing in front of an old, dilapidated house. Harry was the one to knock, and was quite relieved to see Sirius standing on the other side. His godfather glanced at him silently before holding the door open for him. Minutes later, Harry was face-to-face with Percy, who apparently had just been given good news and couldn't wait to share it with Harry.

"It's all right," Percy said, standing in the doorway to the room Ron and Harry shared. "Willow is going to be fine."

Thank goodness, Harry thought to himself. Ron, too, looked relieved. Harry watched Percy pull away before calling out, "Did she say when she was coming back?"

Percy stepped back, looking thoughtful. "All she said was that she had something else to do first, and then she'd be back here."

"Did she say what it was?" Harry asked.

Percy was beginning to look annoyed. "No, but she said it was important. You can ask her about it when she gets back."

- - - - -

Buffy was standing in front of a large glass window, staring inside the long-term ward at St. Mungo's. Inside was a very large figure lying on his back, staring straight upwards. Taking a small breath, she pushed open the door and walked inside, where it was nearly pitch-black.

"Hello," Buffy said quietly.

Her cousin didn't utter a sound. Buffy felt the strangest sensation as she walked over to him and sat down in the chair next to his bed. "I don't know if you can hear me," she said softly. "I don't think you'll understand me, but I understand you. I'm sorry this happened to you, and I'm going to make sure it'll never happen again to anyone."

Dudley's mouth opened and closed a few times, but his dark eyes remained on the ceiling, lost in thoughts she knew had to be troubling. Since the attack, his skin had turned a pale grey and his hair had been coming out in great clumps. Seeing her cousin who she had met just a year before brought hot tears of anger to her eyes. This had to end.

"I'm sorry," she replied, standing up and walking to where a single light shone on his pale face. She put her hand to his cold cheek. "I'll come and stop by soon… and maybe… maybe by then you'll be able to talk again." It was getting hard for her to talk, and she was the one talking. Biting her lip, she glanced at the evident injuries of torture that had been done to the boy for hours on end. Her jaw tightened with anger. Turning her eyes back to her cousin, she bent down and kissed his clammy forehead. "Get well," she said, pulling away.

Outside the ward, she saw the charge Healer making her rounds, glancing up as Buffy left the high-security area. "Are you all right, Miss Potter?"

"Five by five," she echoed quietly, walking past the Witch and back into the hallway. Emma, who had been sitting on the floor staring at the doorway for the past fifteen minutes, got to her feet when she saw Buffy emerge.

"How's your cousin?" she asked, brushing her hands on her jeans as they both headed towards the elevators.

"Insane," Buffy replied. "I honestly don't know what I can do for him."

"Could you… heal him?" Emma asked. "I heard that's what you did for Percy."

"I could, but then…" Buffy paused. "I can heal him. The only problem is that it's deep Slayer-crafted magic and we both know where that comes from."

"Do you think the Healers can do anything for him?" Emma asked, tapping on the button for the elevator as they both waited.

"I don't know," Buffy replied, rubbing her face with both hands. "Right now, I just want to crawl in bed and sleep for the next few months."

"I hear you," Emma replied as the cage doors opened and they both stepped inside. "But at least he's alive, right? Is there still no word on your Uncle?"

"None," Buffy replied, crossing her arms as Emma spoke the instructions for the elevator and the cage began to lower. "Are you going back to Grimmauld Place?"

"I was planning on going back, since that's where my Mum is," Emma replied as the cage doors opened again. "Aren't you coming?"

"I don't want to leave Willow," Buffy replied with a sigh. "I want to believe she's safe here, but…"

"You need to sleep, Buffy," Emma replied dryly. "Not to mention the fact that you helped coordinate a gathering of all of the Aurors from England in a matter of two days. You've got to be exhausted."

"I am," Buffy said, shrugging. "It's not like I haven't done this before."

"What we need is a strong Slayer now," Emma admonished her. "We don't need a – what is it?"

Buffy had just stopped walking and was staring down the hallway, looking surprised about something. Emma followed her gaze and let out a long, pent-up breath with relief as a figure came rushing towards them and swept Buffy into a bone-numbing hug.

"I came as soon as I heard," Oliver set, setting her down on the ground. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right," she said, not letting go of him completely. "The others aren't so much."

"They'll be okay though, right?" he asked, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and steering her out of the way of passing Healers and nurses.

"How did you know?" Emma asked him as they continued towards the family waiting area.

"Cynthia," Buffy said under her breath. "Did she contact you?"

Oliver nodded. "She told me that you were in some sort of crisis because your friend was almost killed today. After talking to… you-know-who, I finally figured out it was Willow. Is she going to be all right?"

"She'll be fine," Buffy said, feeling slightly less anxious now that Oliver was there. Then again, he was always able to ground her rather hothead when she needed it. "I'm sorry you missed your meetings."

"They were boring anyway," he assured her as he gently set her down upon one of the many sofas scattered throughout the larger room. He noticed the look on Emma's face and took her arm, pulling her backwards out of the room.

"How is she, really?" he asked.

"Exhausted," Emma replied honestly. "She's been going since early this morning, right?"

Oliver nodded. "I suppose so."

"Oliver, she needs to sleep," Emma replied. "If we're doing what I think Dumbledore wants us to do, we're going to need her… well, not like this."

"I'll take her back to her place," Oliver replied. "It's probably better if we separate her from Harry for awhile… we don't need her to blame him for what happened."

"Do you think she does?" Emma asked, not really having considered this before.

"I don't know," Oliver shrugged. "I just want to make certain she gets well-rested before the meet-up tomorrow."

"It's a good idea," Emma replied. "The only problem is, how do we get her out of here?"

"I'll go and talk with Cyn," Oliver replied. "They might have a sleeping potion she can take. What are you going to do?"

"I was going to go back to Grimmauld Place and find my Mother," Emma chortled. "But I suppose I can hang around here until someone else is sent."

"Or you can go back and delegate someone else for Watcher duty," Oliver pointed out.

"Or I could listen to you and actually do something smart," Emma replied, smirking. "All right, I'm gone. Can you just make sure she doesn't really fret a lot? She's already stressed to breaking point, and if something else were to happen tonight, I'm not sure we'd have a very reliable Buffy on our hands. I'd hate to see what she's like when she's really pissed off."

"You don't want to know," Oliver retorted. "I don't think she was really angry last January when she—"

"I know," Emma said quietly. "Can we please not talk about this now? I really want to find my Mum and I'm pretty sure you want to go and talk to some good-looking chic Buffy totally despises."

"I'm doing it for the right reasons," Oliver protested as Emma rolled her eyes. "Are you her conscience now?"

"No, but since she's really not saying what's wrong, I better speak up for her," Emma replied, folding her arms. "And if you do anything to really piss her off, I swear to Merlin I'll kill you." Giving him a brilliant smile, Emma darted off and disappeared around a corner.

Oliver returned to the place where he'd left Buffy and saw her pacing back and forth inside the room. She took no notice of him, and he didn't want to tell her where he intended to go. Slipping out unnoticed, he found Cynthia with the rest of the Healers behind one of the desks, talking quietly with her own Mother.

When she saw him, she darted around the edge of the desk to speak to him privately.

"I'm glad you got the message," she said once they'd retreated to an empty room.

"Thank you for sending it," he replied, frowning slightly. "I don't know why you did though. I didn't think you gave a damn about—"

"I… I know how bad things have gotten," Cynthia said, quickly explaining her actions. "I just… she means a lot to you, and to see her in that much pain… I knew she'd need you."

"You must have seen some pretty bad things if you're even talking to someone you couldn't stand to look at six months ago," Oliver pointed out.

"What can I say?" Cynthia asked, shrugging. "War changes people, Oli. I watched her help a Muggle today, and three days ago her cousin was brought in completely helpless. The girl's been through hell and it's probably not stopping until the end comes."

"It probably won't," Oliver replied. "But I'm glad you're here, doing good things for the world. I'd rather be out there playing than doing something normal, but I'm glad you found your place."

"Six months of training and all I got was this lousy outfit," Cynthia replied sarcastically, glancing down at her candy striper's garb. "I suppose it could be worse… your girlfriend could have gone mental and tried wiping the entire world off the charts."

"She's not like that," Oliver said angrily. "She's a hell of a lot more decent than a lot of women I know, so just lay off of her!"

"Sorry," Cynthia snapped, backing off with her hands in the air. "It's just that… she went mental once. How do we know she's not going to do that again?"

"Do you honestly think she'd do something so stupid when her brother's life is at risk?" Oliver asked, his voice not losing the hard edge.

"I don't know!" Cynthia replied back, her voice echoing in the small room. "All I know is that she could have killed you, and I don't want that to happen, ever!"

Oliver bristled at her hostile tone. "I can take care of myself, Cynthia. Just because you've done something good doesn't excuse what you could be doing right now."

That shut her up. Folding her arms, she glared at the opposite wall. "What do you want from me?" she asked sullenly. "I've accepted her as a huge part of your life, but if you expect me to stand by and let her ruin your life and potentially get you both killed, I won't."

"It's not your problem anymore," Oliver told her quietly as some of the tension left the room. "You're the one who resigned."

"I'll come back if we play, but only if we play," Cynthia replied coolly. "I love Quidditch far too much to ignore it."

"I know how you feel," Oliver replied, leaning over and clasping her shoulder. "I just want you to know that I do value your friendship. I value all of my friends."

"But you're in love with her," Cynthia finished resolutely. "Yeah, I got that."

"I didn't come here to fight," Oliver said in a tired voice. "I came because I need your help."

"I'll see what I can do," she said, giving him a tight smile. "What can I do?"

"I need a sleeping potion for Buffy," Oliver said in his straight-forward voice. "She's stressed out about Willow and her cousin and this huge Order gathering that she helped organize… she's had a rough day. I would really appreciate it."

"Of course," she said, moving past him and back into the brightly lit corridor. "I'm here to help."

"Is that a motto?" he asked teasingly.

"I'm working on it," she replied, ducking behind the Healer's desk and rummaging through the Potions on the shelves underneath. "If I give her one for dreamless sleep, can you tell her it didn't come from me? I don't want to encounter that wrath again."

"I understand," he said, accepting the small bottle. "Thanks, Cyn."

"Anytime, Oli," she said, watching as he disappeared back down the corridor. With a sigh, she returned to her work.

Oliver found Buffy still pacing the room. She turned on him the moment she saw his shadow. "I thought you'd left," she said, her voice tired, yet carrying an underlying strength.

"Not a chance," he said, moving into the room and stepping up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, gently pushing the bottle into her unwilling hands. "Can you drink this for me?"

"What is it?" she asked, giving him a suspicious look.

"Just drink it," he said, tightening his arms soothingly. "I promise it'll make you feel better."

"Sleeping potion," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Or you could completely guess it and ruin the surprise," he said, releasing her. Seeing the apprehensive look on her face, he didn't blame her. Yet she uncorked it and drank it in just a few short gulps and soon handed it back to him.

"It tastes like crap," she muttered, yet she found herself growing drowsy to the point where standing seemed really stupid. She moved to the sofa and sank onto it, burying her face in her hands.

Oliver disposed of the bottle and moved to her side, pulling her back to her feet. "I'm taking you home," he told her.

"You are?" she asked sleepily as she stumbled on her first step.

He pushed her hair back from her face so that she could see. "You bet."

"Never leave me?" she asked in a feeble tone. It was astonishing how incapable she was of moving even with her levels of power when under the influence of a powerful sleeping draught.

"Not for the world," he assured her. They tried another step, and he found it better to lift her into his arms rather than have her stumbling and eventually passing out on the floor. Her arms went around his neck rather weakly, yet her eyes blazed into his.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm so… sleepy."

"You need it," he said, stepping out of the room and heading back towards the doorway.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to maneuver both of them into the Floo network. Once he stepped out of the fireplace into the flat he was starting to consider home, he picked up the figure that was lying on the floor in front of him. She was barely awake as she clung to him. It took some more patience and even more time to get her upstairs.

He finally set her down upon her bed. As he covered her up, he laid next to her, watching her sleep. Even under the influence of a potion, she was stunning when she slept.

She stirred little in her sleep and he started to focus on other things, namely the reason behind Willow's attack. Rising, he ran a hand through his hair and walked out of her bedroom, disappearing downstairs. He wasn't at all surprised to see that the place was empty, all things considering. Dumbledore was probably still holding this 'very important' meeting, and Oliver knew that many of Buffy's friends and colleagues were a large part of it.

It bugged him how much he really didn't know about what was going on. He knew that Buffy was far from open at times, and this was one of those times. Oliver had always wanted to be more than just the Quidditch player. He wanted to be there when he was needed the most.

Unfortunately, it wasn't now.

He was torn about what to do next. Night was fast approaching and he knew that staying here would be the smartest thing to do. On the other hand, he hadn't been home for weeks. Everyone at home would want to know what happened.

Making up his mind, he checked on Buffy one last time, sleeping contently in the darkness, before turning and heading back downstairs. He would return later.

- - - - -

Harry was dozing lightly when he heard Ron and some unfamiliar female voice talking in the room. He forced his eyes open and saw Emma Vance standing in the doorway, bathed in the bright light emanating from the hallway.

"I'll tell him when he wakes up," Ron was saying.

Harry watched Emma gesture and say something else inaudibly before backing out of the room. Ron closed the door and gave a slight start when he noticed Harry was awake and staring at him.

"What did she say?" Harry asked, more emotion in his voice than there had been earlier that afternoon.

"Buffy's not coming," Ron said, shrugging. "Something about the fact she's been at St. Mungo's all day with Willow. She's exhausted, so Oliver took her back to the flat."

Harry sat up and pulled on his glasses and began redressing. Ron watched him mildly for a moment before interrupting, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," Harry replied, pulling on his cloak. "Buffy needs me."

"Wrong," said Ron, leaning against his headboard and watching Harry drowsily.

Harry froze, halfway through slipping on his shoes. "What do you mean, wrong?" he asked, frowning. "She's my sister. I think I can be the perfect judge of character when it comes to being the boss of me."

"And you're assuming she doesn't blame you for the fact her best friend nearly died?" Ron asked.

Harry sighed and dropped his left shoe. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Willow was there to watch over you, and the Death Eaters made sure she paid for that, whether it was because she was protecting you or else it's because she's connected closely to Buffy," Ron explained.

"You've spent far too much time around Hermione," Harry groaned as he pulled on his left shoe before settling back on the bed. He watched as Ron lifted his wand and aimed it at the fireplace. The warm flames now licking upwards were warm and welcome. Harry hadn't felt this cold in a long time.

Rising, he removed his cloak and headed towards the door. "I'm not leaving… I just want to see Sirius."

"Suit yourself, mate," Ron said, shrugging as he pulled his cloak up to his chin.

Harry opened the door and peered into the hallway. Apparently the meeting Dumbledore had called had ended for the day. He could smell something wonderful cooking downstairs and tiptoed out, sniffing the air hopefully.

He found Sirius cleaning up the Drawing room. His face was tense and grey. "Sirius," Harry said, quickly announcing his presence so not to startle the older man. Sirius gave him a bright smile before returning to the table where he was collecting the plastic products Faith had insisted they buy for such occasions as the meeting they'd had today. Harry took an armload of garbage from Sirius and retreated downstairs into the dining room.

Molly Weasley was in the Kitchen, supervising dinner preparations. Both Hermione and Ginny were setting the table. Ginny gave him a warm smile of welcome, but Hermione barely noticed him, her miserable eyes cast downwards as she neatly stacked silverware. Harry deposited the plastics into the sink and threw the paper products into the fireplace before leaving the room; it was far too chilly for his tastes.

Emma Vance and her mother were in the corridor, pulling on coats to depart. As soon as Emma saw Harry, she came forward. "Did Ron give you the message?" she asked curtly, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders.

"He did," Harry replied.

"Good," Emma said, and with a short nod, she and Emmeline both vanished into the darkness outside, obviously in a hurry to get home.

This left Harry feeling even more miserable. Going back upstairs, he saw Sirius standing in the Drawing room, looking affectionately around at the decorations still on the walls.

"She'll come back, eventually," Harry told him.

"I hope so," Sirius replied. "I actually miss her, the little Yank."

"Funny," Harry muttered, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "So do I."

Sirius gave him a strange look just then. It was long and calculating and he opened his mouth to speak, closing it when Ginny came upstairs, calling everyone down for dinner.

It was a muted affair. All of the Weasleys except Charlie were present, along with Sirius, Harry, Hermione, Remus and Tonks. Percy was eating without his usual gusto, wanting to get to the flat to check on his closest friend. He got his chance after dinner, and Harry grudgingly asked Percy to bring him a change of clothes and perhaps some personal items.

Percy went to the flat immediately following dinner, looking around in surprise at the very dark apartment. "Hello?" he called to the darkness. "Buffy? Oliver?"

There wasn't a sound.

He moved to the stairs and took them two at a time. He reached the top quickly and pushed open the door. Inside, lying in a pool of bright lights shining from London outside, was Buffy, sleeping rather peacefully, if not soundly. Oliver wasn't in sight.

This angered Percy slightly, as he had depended on Oliver to watch her in case something terrible should happen, as it often did when one was asleep. She looked so peaceful, not even knowing what the gathering had decided.

He sat down next to her, gently pressing his hand on hers. She stirred slightly, but didn't open her eyes. Instead, she rolled towards him, and he could see the lines on her face. They hadn't been there when he'd first met her, but then again, she hadn't carried the same worries and troubles that afflicted her now. He leaned down and kissed her forehead before departing.

There was a whoosh and a figure stepped out of the fireplace, looking forlorn. When Oliver turned and saw Percy standing in a newly-lit living area, his eyes widened and then narrow suspiciously, but Percy didn't say anything as he made himself a cup of tea, except, "Where have you been?"

"I went home," Oliver replied testily, setting his own traveling cloak on the back of the barstool. "What are you doing here?"

"Emma told me what had happened," Percy replied calmly as he sipped his hot beverage. "So I decided to check up on her. Smart thing, too, since you couldn't even be counted on to do that."

Oliver glared at him for a moment before staring at the tea kettle, scowling. "I think I know how to take care of my own girlfriend," he snapped.

"Apparently not," Percy said dryly, setting his mug aside. "You left her alone, asleep and unarmed in case a hundred enemies showed up to take her down?"

Oliver winced slightly, not wanting to admit to the other man that this is what he dreamt of, night after night. Buffy dying and he hadn't been able to save her. "I was just a few grates away," he continued sharply as he filled the kettle with water and set it back on the stove. "Don't worry."

"I wasn't worried about you," Percy said, coolly emphasizing this. "I was worried for her. You'd think she's gone through enough… but no. Our little Buffy is a fighter, no matter what her condition." Sighing, he pushed his mug away. "Maybe someday you'll understand that about her."

"I think I know her pretty damned well," Oliver said, at the end of his patience now.

There was a loud cry above them.

"Apparently not well enough," Percy muttered as both he and Oliver darted around the island and hustled upstairs, eager to see what the source of the woman's discomfort was.

- - - - -

Despite being given a potion for dreamless sleep, she should have known it wouldn't work when prophecies wanted to speak. Her mind was already linked with Faith's, and the two of them were strolling once again through one of the familiar cemeteries around Sunnydale.

"It beats the shit out of fighting," Faith said, kicking an old, dented soda can towards Buffy's feet.

"I don't know," Buffy shrugged, kicking the can backwards. "I sort of like the fighting."

"You can only fight what you see, and you can't see this," Faith reminded her, crossing her arms.

"You can fight what you can't see," Buffy protested. "You're just not very good at it."

"All this Slayer prophetic crap is disturbing, B," Faith laughed. "And we both know what it means. The end has come."

"It's the end of the world and we both feel—"

"I feel like sunshine and bloody daisies," Faith giggled. She was actually giggling as the scene around them transformed, the colors of darkness swirling away in a twist of color and sound, only to be replaced by the most beautiful white garden. When Faith next turned to Buffy, she saw that they were both donned in long, white gowns. "It's different than what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Buffy asked, glancing around as tiny white birds started darting in and out of the bushes surrounding them.

"All little Slayers when their time comes go to Hell, didn't you know?" Faith asked girlishly as she stepped off a marble stair and descended them until she reached a railing, overlooking the dark world below. Buffy joined her as her entire life flashed in the gloomy fog below. She smiled when she saw Harry's face swarm in and out of these thoughts.

"I wonder what happens to him," she wondered out loud.

"His end will come," Faith replied, peering thoughtfully as the figure as it fought off Dementors below. "Maybe sooner than he wishes, but… it's the end we've all hoped for, B. It's the end of our era. The Slayers have finally come to this crossroads and now…" She watched as the thoughts seemed to melt away. "It just goes away. The pain, the guilt, the grief… it just slides away."

Buffy smiled and looked down, only to find that the palm of her hand was bleeding. Gasping, she leapt back, glancing at the long stream of red that ran down the front of her gown. "Faith…" she gasped.

She saw the brunette turn to her, a look of horror in her eyes. "This is what I saw," she said, her eyes wide as the scenery changed around them again. "This is what I've feared… I'm scared, B."

Buffy watched as her hand continued to bleed. "It won't stop," she whispered. "Until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop."

"I should know," Faith said, suddenly drawing out a dagger before throwing it over the edge of the cliff. "He killed you."

"What?" Buffy gasped.

"Death was his gift," Faith said, smiling sadly as she took Buffy's bleeding palm in her hand. "Until your blood stopped flowing, there was evil in the world. Now that we're dead…"

"This isn't possible," Buffy snapped, pulling her hand away. "This isn't right."

"It's only a prophecy, foretold thousands of years before we were born," Faith said. "You know it. You saw it."

Buffy closed her eyes as the memory came to her mind. She had been locked in a room and had been singing a song… "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away…" There had been orbs in the room, and she had seen one, burning brightly with the fire of a hundred suns, despite the blackness of the room.

"It's us," Buffy said, her voice cracking. "The end of the world has come… because of us."

"You have gathered them, but you have brought them to their deaths," Faith said, gently touching Buffy's shoulder. Buffy cried out and fell to her knees, the loss of blood overwhelming her. "The end has come."

"I have to save him," Buffy whispered. "I have to save Harry…"

"It's not your job anymore," Faith said quietly. "You gave it up when you turned to him."

"No," Buffy said, bitter tears springing to her eyes. "I'm not letting my brother go. No, no, no…"

"B, you have to let him go… because if you don't…"

Buffy glanced down and saw her hand covering her brother's face. Gasping in horror, she scrambled to her feet and backed away, watching as his body disintegrated before her very eyes. "NO!" she screamed.

She woke up thrashing and screaming.

The door opened and she soon found a pair of comforting arms encircling her, holding her close as she watched her own hands take her brother's life.

_Death is your gift._

"No," she whispered, the tears flowing freely now.

Percy stood in the doorway, watching as Buffy completely melted in the arms of her boyfriend, her bitter sobs serving as a cold reminder of the harshness of the day she'd been forced to endure.

He backed away, closing the door, wanting to leave the couple in private.

Oliver gently pulled back and reached for a box of tissues, lifting one to wipe her eyes. She met his gaze and gave him a tiny smile.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, tossing the crumpled tissue aside. "It was just a dream."

"It wasn't a dream," she said, shaking her head, her eyes large and frightened. "It was the prophecy."

"The one about…"

"No," she said, shaking her head more vigorously this time. "No… this prophecy was ours. Faith's and mine. It said… it said…"

"Shhhh," he said, gently taking her hands. "Don't think about it."

"I'm going to die," she said, glancing down, her lip starting to tremble. "The end is here and before it's over, I'm going to die."

"No, you're not," he said, giving her hand a strong squeeze. "No, you're not going to die. You're too damn strong to let them hurt you like this. They've taken hits at you and now… No. I'm not going to listen to this. I am not going to let you throw your life away on some prophecy."

"You don't understand," she said tightly. "My dreams are real, Oliver. I don't have a choice."

"You're not even going to be here," he said, touching her face and tipping it so that he could look into her eyes. "I won't let you go."

"It's not your choice anymore," she said sadly. "I'm not here anymore. I'm just… I'm nothing."

He rested his forehead against hers. "You're everything," he said quietly. "You're a fighter, Buffy. You're strong and you're smarter than I thought you were. And you've got a chip in your shoulder the size of Russia sometimes and you know what? I love you. To me, that's what matters the most. If I lose you now…"

"Let's not find out?" she asked, pulling back slightly.

He wrapped her in his arms again and held her until she was sound asleep, his thoughts troubled. Faith had told him about their prophetic dreams, and it scared him beyond anything to know that his girlfriend had just foretold her own death.

- - - - -

In Chapter 3, Harry and Hermione talk; Buffy prepares to say goodbye to Harry, Oliver and England.

In Chapter 4, Faith begins to realize her part in this story isn't over; Buffy leaves England; Oliver goes back to Quidditch; Harry goes to Hogwarts.

Those of you waiting for your moment of Buffy/Oliver should check out the next chapter. I couldn't give those two a proper send-off without some mush.

- - - - -

Random Notes

I know this is late. Actually, it isn't. I've just had one of the worst days, and somehow sitting in front of my computer staring at this story made me feel slightly better. To give a slight recap, my brother totaled his car in an accident this morning, waking me up around 9 after I got home from work at 5:30 am. To make matters worse, it was his own stupid fault, and since I'm the only sister in the area, I had to go and take care of him. After working about seventeen hours in a row. Not a happy camper. To top it off, my baby brother was arrested around ten tonight for some hazing ritual at this fraternity he's trying to join... he'd been locked in a trunk of a car completely addled and after going down to the police station and seeing him, I'm now at my night job, feeling exhausted and quite angry. That's the reason why this chapter was posted tonight. I have one carless brother and my baby brother is in Detox. To top it off, our parents are completely clueless about it, and I really really need to give them both a hearty trottle.

Oh, well. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Two advance chapters were sent out, including a rather extended version of this one. The Quadi girls have been talking about setting up another yahoo group again (after we had team-on, we kinda dropped yahoo, but now that our team-on account has been dead for over two months, we're deciding on yahoo again). If we do that, all advance chapters will be posted there, along with all of the other stories the Quadi girls (there's seven of us: me, Char, Katrina, Jesse, Aly, Grace and Trish) write. That way, we have a nice place we can store them, others can read them, and we don't have to keep all fifteen zillion websites we have up and updated all the bloody time. Remembering the good old days with just one site was fantastic... way back before we were even called Quadi. The sad part is, the first four of us have been together over seven years now... tragic.

Reviews would be welcomed, smiled upon and you will doused in something fabulous. Trust me, they'd cheer me up.

- - - - -

Reviewer Comments

So much fun reading the reviews. I could have given everything away... but, nope. Not yet. So... this chapter concluded Willow's melodrama, so hopefully you're all satisfied that she's alive. I didn't want to scare you TOO easily; I just wanted to point out that Harry is hardly safe in anyone's possession!

**solhattaght** -- Thank you :) Willow won't die... I'm not saying she won't be a target though, because, you know... she's kind of close to the one person Voldemort actually WANTS.

**Laen** -- She didn't. Be relieved (please?).

**Violet Star** -- I know I'm cruel. I never get to do any fun cliffhangers anymore... so I finally had a chance, and I took it. For this, I will apologize. Willow is not a casualty of war... at least, not yet. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

**Naitch03** -- I'm damned, I know. I'm sorry! And, yes, the attacks are becoming more personal and will spread even to the places where Buffy thinks people are safe... Faith, perchance, being Marked, is about to become a disaster for where she is. Buffy's job will be handled with her usual grace and flair. And no, Wormtail's little redemption comes at a later date. This I will promise. (On a side note, I like your new story!)

**AnitaBlake/BuffyFan** -- Truthfully, yes, the other story was... beyond large. I just wanted a nice medium set between Harry's sixth and seventh years. I honestly don't know how long this is going to be yet, because while I plot, the ideas just keep on a-comin'. I think you're the first person I know that has ever called a cliffhanger "great". Hehe.

**DarkAngelMali**-- Willow isn't going to die... now. The Fred/George question was fabulous, since I really hadn't thought of how they would react, so that point was completely disclaimered to your question, since... yeah. Brainless me. Harry saw... well, not going to give that away for people who alone read the comments.

**electric**** pancake** -- my writing ALWAYS lags. I needed to set up the action sequence... so it took some really boring stuff to do so. Just my way. Did Fred/George say 'Voldemort'? I was going to make certain they NEVER would. Why? Just because... one of my little things. I'm killing EVERYONE off. Just kidding. Round, ballpark figure? I can't say. I'll say two for now, but the number will either grow or stay the same. And it wasn't Draco Malfoy, it was his father. Draco isn't a Death Eater yet, and Lucius HASN'T met Willow before, like Draco did (back in Chapter 43 I think). And because of that, he just assumed she was a witch, and because he doesn't know her from his own family (where everyone is interrelated), he just assumed, Mudblood. The story is a new one because the other one was getting WAY too long and tedious and I wanted to start something new and fresh!

**Anne** -- yeah, yeah, I know. Evil becomes me. I really hope this person hasn't surprised Harry so much, but there was a reason why this person was there.

**jim**** hawking jr** -- nope, not Buffy! She's not there yet!

**Emba** -- I know... poor Willow! Well, actually, poor Harry. He was the target... they just wanted to bleed the person "protecting" him to teach him a lesson!

**Black Cat Gurl** -- ah, yes, the issue of Tara. Well, that's up in the air at the moment, considering... well, you'll see. I would LOVE to bring her in, as she is my second favorite in the whole Buffy verse (my first the unquenchable hormone circuit known as Anya). But, there are issues. Like whether or not to make her gay. See, I would love to. I know Grace would want me to. But... I might put it up for the masses to decide.

**Internal-Dragon** -- aww, thank you! I love cookies! Yes, total geekiness there. I digress. But thank you, nonetheless!

**hermionefairy** -- I'm not going to kill Willow now, I promise. And, actually the hand belonged to Remus. If it had belonged to a vampire, eeeeep. Awkward much? Maybe at a later date would they pay our heroines a visit. Harry won't be kidnapped now, but in the future, you'll have to wait and see. As for Harry/Hermione, well, we just spent a year learning about their relationship. Now we learn to see how the end of their relationship effects their friendship, until Hermione realizes the real reason it collapses and, well, let's just say she's not one girl who gives up easily. And I agree, the Cho thing was a little... bizarre. And Faith will find someone... and, yeah... it's not one of the twins. That would be a little TOO weird. Buffy and Oliver will stay together, for now... but in the future, I don't know what will happen. I'd love to give them a happy ending, if there was an ending to return to. Spike may come back... I just have to decide whether or not he's someone I want to use for something. As for Draco, he's going to get dark. As in the darkest a human being can go and still remain human. He and Harry will have a face-off, and from what I can tell you, it's not going to go well for either one of them. Wow... lots of spoiler-ish stuff in there... interesting. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**narmolanya** -- why, thank you! And, no, Willow's not dead. She only got a little wounded.

**Adrie** -- I only sent two, since I haven't finished revisions on the third... and yeah. Note above. Thanksgiving was great (for some odd reason though, deep-fried turkey doesn't taste the same as traditional).

**snave**** bobst** -- And would you know at the beginning of starting this whole fic, I never would have considered a Buffy/Oliver pairing? Grace convinced me that it would work, and so far... it has. So far. Many, many thanks!

**The Witch From Next Door** -- Awww, thanks! :)

**Lightdemondarkangel** -- I can assume Angel ended on a bad note then, since I haven't seen it. I know it was a crappy place to end it, and I wanted to post this second chapter sooner, but the problems on this site became a mighty headache and... didn't really work. And here be chapter two!

- - - - -

End.


	3. Infinity

**Chapter 3**

**Infinity**

- - - - -

Buffy arrived at Grimmauld Place shortly after dawn the next morning. She was still rather tired and wasn't in the mood to talk. She was rather relieved when she found the dining room to be completely empty except for Sirius, who was standing in the pantry, unloading an armload of groceries.

"Good morning," he said, recognizing her as she stepped out of the fireplace.

"Hello," she said, calmly approaching him. "Do you always do your shopping in the middle of the night?"

"What?" he asked, and then he noticed her staring at the stack of cans and bags in his arms. "No, it's just that… your gathering yesterday cleaned out the paltry stores. Tonks and Remus were kind enough to bring a few more things, since there is to be yet another meeting today." He saw her then, standing there in a button-down blouse and jeans. She looked both refreshed and… sad. He saw it in her eyes, how down they looked. "Are you all right, Elizabeth?" he asked, depositing the rest of the stores on the shelves and stepping out of the pantry. "You look… forlorn."

"Didn't sleep too well, I guess," she said with a shrug. "It was a rough night."

"That much I can tell," he said, as they both sat down at the table. "Would you like some breakfast? There are croissants and jam, but I'm afraid there is little else unless you wish for me to cook."

"That's all right," Buffy said, waving an impatient hand. "I'm not really hungry."

"You must eat," Sirius said, fixing her with a stern look. "James would kick my bottom if I didn't look after his only daughter." He leaned over and grabbed a kettle and a mug and poured her a steaming cup of water. Buffy rose and walked to where the tea was stored and lifted a box before joining Sirius back at the table.

"I suppose," she said, adding a teabag to her water. Sirius gave her a gentle smile before rising and starting to prepare breakfast. "Is everyone else asleep?"

"The Weasleys have decided to stay until the gathering is over," Sirius replied, pulling out an armload of pots and pans. He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Harry arrived last night."

"Good," she said, folding her hands. "I sort of need to talk to him, but…" She stared at her hands for a moment before glancing up at her brother's godfather. And then it struck her how strange it was for her not to have a godfather of her own. But another question was pressing her mind. "Do you believe in prophecies?"

"Considering that a prophecy brought me back to life," Sirius said, glancing sharply over the stack of pans in his arms as he started unloading them on the table.

"I had another dream last night," she said, feeling not as uncomfortable as she'd felt before. "Faith was in it, too."

He stopped pattering about and sat down, eager to hear more. "What happened?"

"We were dead," she explained. "Faith kept telling me it's because there was this other prophecy. "Harry had to kill us because unless we were dead, Voldemort would exist and evil would reign supreme. Yeah, Harry killed me and my death killed him. Let's just say it wasn't a happy ending of roses and puppies I was imagining." She paused. "The end of the world is coming, and it's going to swallow me whole."

"It's going to choke on you," Sirius said, taking her cup from in front of her and gently removing the bag inside of it. "Face it, Buffy, you're a hell of a lot stronger than I think even you-know-who knows. You're smart enough to pull yourself out of the country before the final battle starts."

"Maybe," she said, shrugging. "I just don't know what I'd do if something were to happen to Harry…" Her voice trailed off and she decided to ask the other question on her mind. "You knew my parents, right?"

"Your father was my best mate," Sirius replied, pushing her tea back into her hands. "Why?"

"Did I have godparents?" she asked curiously. "Did my parents care about me long enough to have godparents?"

Sirius started looking mildly uncomfortable. "You did," he finally said. "And, let me say, after I saw that you were alive, I was not too thrilled knowing that your godfather lives, too."

"Don't tell me it's Voldemort," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"No," Sirius said, watching her face carefully to gauge her reaction. "It wasn't you-know-who. It was Peter."

Her eyes widened and she nearly dropped her mug of tea. Running a hand through her hair, he tried not to laugh at her amazed expression. "Now I have heard everything," she muttered, sipping her tea. "Is that the truth or are you just trying to be nice and not hurt my feelings?"

"Would you rather it be Severus Snape?" Sirius asked, not quite looking her in the eye.

"To tell you the truth, I'd rather adopt someone else to be my godfather," she said, sighing loudly. Then a wicked grin spread across her face. "Maybe I should ask Professor Snape."

"You wouldn't dare," Sirius said, his eyes narrowing.

"Then you could tell me the truth," Buffy said, smiling prettily.

"I have," Sirius said evenly.

"You mean that man that betrayed and helped to murder my parents is my godfather?" she said, her voice rising as her brain started to comprehend this fact. "Oh, God!"

"Now, Buffy," Sirius said, standing up and backing slowly away from the woman glaring at him from his own dining room table, "he wasn't bad back then… in fact, he was the only other person aside from Remus that Lily would speak to, since Lily was so ticked at James…"

"Don't talk about my parents like that," she roared, jumping to her feet, her chair falling with a crash behind her. The other chairs shivered and edged closer to the table as Buffy advanced on Sirius. "Why couldn't I have a normal godfather, like Lupin? Where was he in all of this?"

"You have no idea how much we all adored you," Sirius said, his voice dropping nervously. She was really starting to scare him with that Lily-like temper of hers. "Peter loved you, so Lily was nice enough to include him as your godfather." He looked startled at the revolted look on her face and gently reached forward to take her hand as she sat down again on a chair. The other chairs let out tiny moans of protest and edged away from her, but nothing could get the look off of her face.

"Why does everything I stand for turn to black?" she asked suddenly, glancing up at Sirius. "Look at me. I'm the oldest daughter of two whose parents were killed. My brother is supposed to be some savior of the universe. I'm a Slayer that's been Marked and apparently filled with the soul of a demon…" She sighed and started chuckling darkly. "Look at me… all full of self-pity Buffy."

He gently handed her a tissue and she wrenched it from his hands, dabbing at her eyes. "I know it's not what you wanted to hear," he said, watching her jerky, aggravated movements.

"You think?" she asked sharply as she tossed the used tissue into the fire. She dropped her head onto her knees and wrapped her arms around them. "It's been a rough night."

"I know," Sirius replied, gently stacking all of the unused pans and slipping them back onto their shelf. "Don't… don't worry about who's who on the family tree, Buffy. I may be Harry's godfather, but you're still family, no matter who you are."

She lifted a face that was full of exhaustion and gave him a tired smile. "If it helps, Faith's always been like family. You know, we're all we had for awhile and now…" She trailed off and shrugged as she replaced her head on her knees. "I bet she's pretty glad she's not part of this psycho life right now."

"I imagine she misses it," Sirius said slowly, disappearing into the pantry.

"Oh, yeah, she misses the fact that she has to send her friends to the hospital the day after they arrive," Buffy snapped irritably. "She probably also misses the fact that the entire Order has been recalled in order to stop someone no one but my brother can stop."

"It's reality, Elizabeth," Sirius said, his own voice grumpy as he pulled back out, sacks and a carton of eggs in his arms. "Now, come on and help me with breakfast. Harry told me last night you're taking cooking lessons."

"Not that they help," she protested, standing up and starting to remove the eggs and packages of bacon and bags of potatoes from his arms. "What are we making and can I have some?"

Fifteen minutes later, the dining area was filled with the sizzle of bacon and fried potatoes, while a large kettle boiled in the fireplace. Buffy had tossed her tea despite Sirius calling her a full-blooded Yankee and made the strongest pot of coffee she could muster with her wand. It was surprising how much better she was at cooking with her wand than with anything else.

As she moved around, Sirius saw the tiny blue pendant she'd been wearing a lot. "Why do you still wear that thing?"

"It keeps me safe," Buffy replied, her automatic answer to the same question nowadays. He watched as she poured herself a rather large mug of coffee before settling down at the table. Sipping it, she let out a long breath and a beautiful smile. "I love coffee."

"You're such a Yankee," Sirius grumbled as he turned back to his potatoes.

"Buffy?" a voice asked from the doorway. She turned and saw a sleepy, disheveled figure walk in, wrapped in a plaid bathrobe.

"Oh, Hermione!" Buffy squealed, leaping to her feet and throwing her arms around the other girl. "It's so fantastic to see you!"

Sirius watched them with a fond smile before turning to the copious amounts of smoke pouring from the potatoes.

"It's good to see you, too," Hermione said, sitting down in the chair next to Buffy and reaching for the pot of coffee. "Everyone's been so worried. How is Willow? Is she going to be all right? Did they find who attacked her? Did she—"

"Okay, stop Hermione," Sirius said, lifting his hand in an attempt to hush the other girl, who promptly closed her mouth and gave him a guilty smile.

"Willow's going to be fine," Buffy assured her, taking another long drink of coffee. "She wasn't hurt too badly. The healers at St. Mungo's do a pretty good job. And they know the Death Eaters attacked her, so the Aurors could get them away from the scene." She paused. "Have you talked to Harry yet?"

"No," Hermione replied honestly. "But I know that your Aunt is dead, your cousin is in St. Mungo's and your Uncle is missing."

"You're still as smart as a busy little bee, aren't you?" Buffy muttered under her breath just as Sirius set the large black pot of hot tea in front of them.

"I just want to know everything, that's all," Hermione said with a cheerful little smile.

"I remember when you were once upon a time a little golden girl," Buffy said, arching one eyebrow as she finished off her coffee. "You know, inquisitiveness is one thing, but it's another thing to be so damned nosy, Granger."

"You sound like Professor Snape," Hermione said, sticking out her tongue.

"Oh, that's mature," Buffy said, giggling.

Sirius quickly intervened before the two started throwing hits at each other, no matter how light-hearted and mocking they were, he'd been around his mother and knew a feisty temper would end in nothing but bloodshed. He was thankfully spared with the arrival of Molly Weasley, dressed in a housedress and fluffy pink slippers. She looked pleased to see Buffy sitting there at the table, although she was looking rather tired and pale.

The same questions were asked and Buffy gave the same response. She found herself repeating the same words until she could probably say them backwards having repeated them so often. When Harry finally walked in last, cleaning his glasses, she gazed at him warily.

"You better not…" she said warningly, dropping her fork on her plate.

Yet when he opened his mouth, she let out a loud shriek and leapt to her feet. "Is that all you people care about? All of your bloody meddling, it's enough to make this blonde insane!"

Brushing past Harry, she disappeared upstairs. Harry's eyes were wide as he watched her storm away on the landing before turning meek eyes to the dining room, where every single person was staring at him. "What did I do?" he asked innocently.

Buffy retreated to the third floor and her comfortable bedroom across the hall from Faith's. Closing it tightly, she relaxed her head against the wood and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Oh, they were all so trying her patience right now.

She moved to her bed, smiling at it fondly. Sinking down upon it, she rested her head on a pillow and soon fell asleep.

- - - - -

The meeting was just about to begin when a lone figure moved onto the third floor and made his way through the stacks of trunks and cloaks loitering the crowded hallway before pounding on a door. "Buffy! Buffy, are you in there? Buffy!"

Percy tried the doorknob, but found the door locked. "Oh, I do not have time for this," he snapped, pulling out his wand. "Alohamora!"

The door burst open just as Buffy gasped and sat up. She turned in a bit of panic to the doorway to see Percy Weasley stepping inside. "Damn it, Perce, give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

"You were sleeping? Again?" he asked incredulously, closing the door behind him and flicking his wand so the lights in the room would light up.

"So what if I was?" she asked irritably as she ran a hand through her hair. "What time is it?"

"It's nearly ten," Percy replied. "The meeting starts soon."

"Just my luck, I'm out of time," Buffy muttered as she rose slowly to her feet, stretching. "I've been here two days and already my best friend was nearly killed, my cousin just flew over the cuckoo's nest, and my best friend is sitting here blasting my door open telling me this meeting I'm some part of is about to begin and I haven't had time to shower or even look at myself properly in the mirror, or—"

"Good lord, Buffy!" Percy said, a look of mingled agitation on his face as he walked over and pried her away from her bed. "You're worse than Mum."

She glared at him, crossing her arms. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," she said crossly.

He just shook his head, latched onto her wrist, and pulled her bodily from the room.

In the hallway, she met with Harry, who looked half-fearful and half-angry at the sight of his disheveled sister.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, take her and make sure she doesn't run off again," Percy mumbled, handing Buffy's hand to Harry, who took his sister's hand warily. Her eyes were cold and the aura around her was even colder. Percy, still muttering under his breath, passed by both of them and disappeared.

"Look, whatever I did to make you mad, I didn't mean to do it," Harry began, just as she turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed.

After a moment, she shook her head and pulled her hand away. He stood with bated breath for just a moment when she suddenly burst into laughter. "Oh, my word… I am so sorry, Harry!" she said, throwing her arms and drawing her astonished brother into her embrace. "I've been walking around here all pissy and bitchy and you just catch me at the worst times. Oh, you must really hate me!"

"I was actually worried that you might hate me," Harry said, chuckling nervously.

"Why would I hate you?" she asked, her laughter dying off abruptly.

"You've been all avoiding-the-Harry since yesterday," he replied, his own nervous chuckles falling away into nothingness. "I just… wondered if you were mad about what happened to Willow."

"Harry, listen to me," she said, pulling back and gazing at him, a fond glisten sparkling in her eyes. "You're my brother. I love you, even if you are a little spoiled brat now that big sis is in town. I don't hate you for what happened to Willow. It would have happened anyway and I was glad she was there to take the hit, otherwise you'd probably be dead now. I owe Willow my life… and so do you."

"I… I guess," Harry said, shrugging uncomfortably. "I just don't know what to do now that… I mean, we've already lost our family…"

"About that, Harry," she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him towards the staircase to go to the gathering. "I saw Dudley last night."

"How is he?" Harry asked as they reached the top of the stairs, carefully maneuvering around all of the storage just crammed onto the landing.

"He's pretty much insane," Buffy said sadly. "But… I made myself a promise last night and I promised I wouldn't stop until it's all over."

"I made that promise sixteen years ago," Harry said dryly, his hand moving up to the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. "This is kind of my daily reminder."

"I just wish they would have put something pretty like that on my arm," she said, scowling at the skull tattoo on her left arm. "This is so friggin' ugly… you'd think someone with that much power would have a sense of style, but no. Once again, Buffy gets the short end of the staff."

"Do you always talk about yourself in the third person?" Harry teased as they walked downstairs.

"Only when I'm with you," she said back, grinning. "It's fun to irritate you."

"And you're just so damned good at it," he agreed, earning him a timely slap on the back of the head.

They walked downstairs, but Harry hesitated going inside the drawing room, which was beyond full of people again. There were people standing in three rows behind the seats, which were all full except for the spot right next to Percy. Buffy turned back to see Harry standing in the doorway. Neither Ron nor Hermione were inside. Waving her off, he turned and walked downstairs. Ron and Hermione were with Ginny in the dining room, cleaning away the mess from breakfast. All three of them glanced up when he walked in.

"Hello, Harry," Ginny said with her usual warm smile as she moved past him and went, giggling, upstairs. Ron just shrugged and followed them. Feeling as though his friends had planned this, Harry sighed and glanced back inside at Hermione, who was sitting down, folding a small stack of towels on the table.

"Why do I have the feeling you planned this?" he asked lightly, taking the seat across from her.

"Because I asked them to," she said directly, giving up on the folding so she could look at him. "I felt like we needed to talk about… well…"

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say. Hermione had been his first 'real' girlfriend. Well, second if he counted Cho, and he really wasn't up to doing that. Things had been so tense for them for so long that his heart ached when he thought about how much he'd come to care for her – care, but not love.

She was gazing at him, uncertainty in her eyes. He didn't know how she felt. He knew his sister didn't, mainly because this was the first time she'd seen Hermione in weeks. Hell, he didn't even know why she still looked at him like that, because if she'd blown him off like he'd done to her, he would have been beyond furious. There certainly wouldn't be any mushy looks. If her looks could be considered mushy, that is.

She finally turned away and reached for another towel. He reached out and pulled the stack out of her reach and gently removed the towel in her trembling hands. "Hermione…"

When she looked up at him, he was startled to see the tears in her eyes. "Look," she said in a small voice, "I know you blame me for what happened to Buffy and I don't blame you, but there comes a point when you just have to forgive and forget, Harry."

"I know," he said firmly. "I mean, I have."

Her eyes changed almost instantly, sparkling with warmth he hadn't seen in months. "You have?" she asked, a bit of hope in her voice.

"I forgave you a long time ago," he admitted. "I just never… never got the chance to tell you."

Her face fell slightly as she stared at the heap of things in front of him. "Oh," she said, trying not to sound as though her feelings had been hurt. "I understand."

"Apparently you don't," Harry said quickly, pushing the laundry aside. "I don't know… I didn't know how to say I was sorry. I don't really know how you feel at all. I'm… lost about what to do, and since you're my best friend, and, well, you were… yeah."

"Harry," she said, leaning over and placing her hand on top of his. He stared down at it with widening eyes. "I wasn't just your girlfriend. I was your best friend once. I know things have changed since she came… but she's going now. All you have now is us… and I don't want to lose you as my best friend—"

"You won't, ever," Harry assured her, setting his other hand on top of hers. "I care for you a lot Hermione. It's just that I don't think I can… I don't want you to get hurt. If something were to happen to you, I don't know what would happen. I've known you forever and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Nothing will, Harry," Hermione said. "I promise I won't do something stupid to get you killed, but that doesn't mean I'm about to throw away what we had."

"It was the greatest time of my life," he admitted, meeting her eyes at last. "But I'm not going to do it again."

"You don't want to be with me," she said. It wasn't a question; more of a harsh realization.

"Not now," he amended. "Maybe someday when all of this is over and I can finally learn how to live a normal life… but for now…"

"Friends," she said quickly, pulling her hand away from his.

"Best friends," he said, giving her a half-smile and rising. "I think I'm going to go back to the flat and get some things. I think I'll stay here till we go back to Hogwarts next week."

"It's a good idea," she said, watching as he disappeared upstairs before glancing down at her trembling hands. "It's a great idea," she added tearfully, quickly running her finger up to her eye to catch the tears threatening to blur her vision.

Some time passed after Harry had gone through the fireplace. Ron found her in the same spot, dabbing at her eyes with a dishtowel, clearly in some distress. "Hermione?" he asked quietly.

He watched her drop the towel, rub her face anxiously and turn to give him a forced smile. "Hi, Ron," she said lightly. "How's the meeting going?"

"I think they're almost done," he said slowly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm so happy," she said, although her face denied her words instantly.

But by nightfall and the meetings' end, everyone staying at the house knew that Hermione was miserable. On a morning the following week, Buffy gently knocked on the door to the room Hermione and Ginny shared. Ginny had been awake for hours, but Hermione hadn't been down for brunch yet.

"Hermione, are you in there?" she asked, opening the door slightly.

The fireplace was dark, but a single lamp was turned on near Hermione's bushy hair. Her back was facing the door as Buffy walked in, gently closing it behind her. Moving to the bed, she sat on the end and began to rub Hermione's back until the girl stirred and opened her eyes, staring blearily at the figure sitting five feet away.

"Buffy," she said softly, sitting up, holding her covers to her body. "What are you doing here?"

"What did he say to you?" Buffy asked directly.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, breaking eye contact and running a hand through her hair. "Nothing matters."

"Bullocks," Buffy replied quickly. "My brother is a great many things, but even at his best, he's as blind as a bat. He told me what happened this morning."

"And you wanted to check up on me for him," Hermione said bitterly. "How kind."

"I didn't do it for him," Buffy said irritably. "I did it for me. You stuck by me since last summer, Hermione. I owe you a lot. I'm going to start paying some of that back. Come on," she said, standing up and pulling the covers off the younger girl. "Get up. We're going out."

"We're… what?" Hermione asked, a bit breathlessly.

"We're going into London, so get dressed!" Buffy said cheerfully, walking over to the window and pulling open the blinds, letting brilliant morning sunshine in. She could feel the heat of the warm English morning through the double-paned glass. "It's about time we did something for you!"

Hermione obliged, and after a quick shower and rummaging through her Muggle clothes, she found something she could wear around London. Buffy was waiting for her downstairs, and the only other person she saw was Sirius.

After a taxi ride into London, the two started browsing and window shopping and didn't stop until lunchtime, when Hermione felt absolutely faint from not eating or drinking anything before walking around the hot streets of England all morning. The two took refuge in an adorable outdoors café.

"Thank you," Hermione said, sipping from her water glass as their waiter pulled their menus and strode away. "It's been a great morning."

"You should have said you weren't feeling well," Buffy said, setting down an entire armful of bags. She'd been buying things all morning. Hermione had been slightly curious, since Buffy's wardrobe could make those wealthy girls in Slytherin jealous, but had chosen not to say anything. Until now.

"I didn't want to worry you and your shopping," Hermione said, curiously eyeing the bags. "What did you buy?"

"Clothing," Buffy said with a shrug. "I was also having a slight shoe fetish. Feel free to borrow them when I go, since my feet are about the same size of yours, and—"

"You're going?" Hermione asked, frowning. "Where are you going?"

"Crap," Buffy muttered under her breath, setting down her water glass with a slight thud. "I really wanted to tell Harry first, but considering… well, you are his best friend… I'm leaving on Saturday."

"That's the day before we return to Hogwarts," Hermione said, stunned. "Where are you going?"

"At the meeting yesterday it was decided that I should begin my work for the Ministry, and my first assignment is in Eastern Europe, or, at least, I think it is," Buffy continued, frowning. Their waiter returned and served them both sodas and salads before departing. "Hmm… do you know where Bulgaria is?"

"You're going to Bulgaria?" Hermione asked, horrified. "Oh, Buffy! That is in Eastern Europe! You're going to be so far away!"

"It's not that far, when you consider how speedy the Floo is," Buffy assured her. "I'll only be gone until Christmas."

"That's almost four months!" Hermione cried, aghast. "Oh, Buffy, you're leaving and Harry just told me he didn't want to be with me and oh, I don't know! I don't know what's going to happen! I don't know if I'm going to live through these next few months! I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life! I just don't know!"

Buffy had dropped her napkin at Hermione's sudden outburst. Rubbing her temple carefully and trying to distract all of the prying eyes glancing at their table, she leaned closer to the distraught girl and put her hand on Hermione's arm. "Nothing is ever certain in this lifetime, Hermione. I don't know what's going to happen, but if this war ends, soon, as we're all hoping it does… well, I could always use a sidekick. You're handy to have around when someone's trying to kill me."

This brought a small smile to Hermione's face. "Thanks," she said, glancing down at her salad. The two ate in silence for a few minutes before she glanced up again. "Does Wood know?"

"I haven't told him yet," Buffy admitted, setting her fork inside her empty bowl and pushing it aside. "I don't know how to tell him I'm not coming back…"

"Has he heard anything yet on Quidditch?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing.

"Nope," Buffy shrugged. "At least, not that I know of; he didn't come back last night."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking surprised. "I just thought that you two—"

Buffy was suddenly looking rather sad. "I really don't want to leave, Hermione, but we both know why I have to go."

"It's just going to be so hard without you around," Hermione admitted. "You may be Harry's sister, but I feel like you're also mine."

"I always wanted a little sister," Buffy said, her nose wrinkling slightly. "I mean, Harry's great and all, but can you imagine me trying to get him into my big sister clothes?"

Both women shared a laugh.

The waiter brought their dishes just then, and they ate in silence, paid and left. As they walked back through the market, Buffy suddenly pulled Hermione aside.

"I want you to have this," Buffy said, pulling out a small silver box as they waited for the taxi she'd called. "Consider it a 'sisterly' gift. I was going to wait for your birthday, but since I won't be around…"

"Buffy," Hermione said, opening the box. Inside was a beautiful blue phoenix on a long silvery chain. "What is it?"

"I charmed it myself," Buffy said proudly. "It's a lie detector or a spinning wheel or whatever it's called. It lets you know when foes are near so that you'll know when you need to call for help."

Hermione held it up to the weakening sunlight and beamed at it. Somehow, thanks didn't really seem like the right word to say.

- - - - -

Buffy was waiting on the terrace when Oliver returned home just past nine that evening. A bottle of beer sat on the railing next to her and she was just staring down at the busy streets of London below.

"Hello," he said, his arms encircling her waist. Resting his cheek on the top of her head, he felt her arms wrap around his. "How was your day?"

"It was… busy," she replied, turning in his arms, but he had already pulled away. She senses he was hiding something and decided to call him on it. "You know, don't you?"

"I'm going out," he said, sitting down on one of the two chaise lounges. "Quidditch starts again in two weeks and I'll be going to Scotland to train. I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I found out earlier."

"We're both leaving then," she said boldly, "because I'm leaving Saturday night."

"What?" he asked in disbelief, pulling her down onto his chair. "When did you find out?"

"Yesterday," she replied, taking his hand. "I found out yesterday. They think it's best."

"They do, or you do?" he asked suspiciously.

"We all do," she admitted, touching his face. "It's best for me to get away while all of this is going on. It's just going to get worse. Wil's finally being released from St. Mungo's tomorrow. I'm moving her into Oxford on Friday and then…"

"We only have three days left?" he asked, his voice soft as he reached out to touch her, yet she pulled away. "Buffy…"

"I know it's a lot to ask, and I'm really not comfortable in a long-distance thing," she said, turning back to look at him. "I'd understand if you want to, you know, end things?"

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked, pulling her back to him. "Buffy, you know I feel. You've known since I told you on Christmas. I don't want to pretend you didn't just shock me, because you did. That doesn't mean I won't stop loving you when you disappear!"

"I'm going to Bulgaria!" she said, bursting into angry tears.

His eyes widened. "Oh," he said quietly, pulling her onto his lap.

"I know!" she wailed. "I'll be stuck in some former Soviet country I know nothing about hunting vampires."

He rested his face on her shoulder, gently letting her talk out her own tantrum. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I'll be damned if I let you go that easily."

She turned to him with eyes full of surprise. "What?"

"You're going to be gone until what, Christmas? The end of the year? We can deal," he assured her, pulling her even closer. "That is, if you are willing to do your part."

"Always," she said, smiling at him as she kissed him gently. Pulling back, she rested her face in the chest of his shirt and sighed. "I just cannot believe I have three days left," she said sadly.

He kissed the top of her head and held her even closer. "Then I'm going to make sure you enjoy every last one of them, starting with dinner at my parents' tomorrow night."

"I'd like that," she said, giggling in her silly, Buffy-like way.

"I figured you might," he replied, chuckling as they both leaned back in the chaise, staring at the stars shining far above them. As their hands met on her shoulder, their matching rings connected, providing an invisible, magical bond between them.

It wasn't long before they had both fallen asleep…

- - - - -

"That's it… come on," Buffy said, gently pushing Willow inside her brand-new apartment at Oxford. Willow, still slightly groggy from her drugged Potions, glanced around the bright living room and gasped.

"What did you do?" she asked suspiciously, walking right inside. Buffy followed her, closing the door behind her.

"I felt like decorating a bit yesterday," Buffy said apologetically. "Besides, it gave Oliver and I some private time."

"You brought Oliver to my room?" Willow asked in a dazed voice. "What were you two doing?"

"Nothing naughty!" Buffy said, smirking as she walked next to her best friend and put her arm over Willow's shoulder. "We just made sure everything was shipped here like those nice guys at FedEx promised they would be. And then we decided to move some old furniture out of storage. I think you'll get a kick out of your bedroom; half of it came out of the Wood's storage lot."

"Seriously?" Willow asked, pushing past Buffy again and moving down the narrow hallway. Cracking open one of the bedroom doors, she peeked inside and disappeared. A moment later, Buffy heard a shriek and let out a knowing grin.

The door burst open as Willow reappeared. "Do you have any idea how cool this room looks?" she asked in an excited tone, latching onto Buffy's wrist and dragging her down into the small bedroom.

The idea had been ultimately Laurel's. She had accompanied them in the morning, looking rather bored as she sat on a chair and watched Buffy and Oliver tugging in furniture and then arguing for hours on end on how to rearrange it. Laurel had then gone into both bedrooms, glancing around before returning. Buffy had seen the look on her face immediately and fearing the little girl had gone and done something stupid to get her expelled from Hogwarts, she forced Laurel to explain her idea.

Apparently, it had been a good one.

Willow's room was built for the perfect Wicca. There were large circular cabinets on the walls which spun open to reveal secret compartments containing magical ingredients. The bed itself was large and circular. The walls were deep red, while the cabinets were royal blue and golden yellow. The bed had a royal blue comforter with large stacks of small, square-sized yellow, blue and red pillows. Two large windows overlooked the campus in the distance. The desk in the room was nothing but a long board coming from the wall with a weird chair. There was a small bookshelf stacked with both Muggle and Wiccan texts. A mirrored closet door blocked her closet from view, and the rest of the furniture had been painted either lemon yellow or bright red, including the vanity table and the dresser. Lastly, there was an antique-style telephone on the bright yellow vanity table. A small, blue-glass jar sat next to it, filled to the brim with fine green powder. Floo powder.

"I love it!" Willow enthused, her eyes on the far wall, where an actual aquarium had been installed. "Is this even allowed?"

"It was put there magically, so what the Muggles don't know won't hurt them," Buffy replied, smiling at Willow's reaction to her bedroom.

"This is just so not me!" Willow replied, dropping her purse on her bed and pushing past Buffy to go into the other bedroom and then the single bathroom. After a tour of the apartment which took a rather long time, considering its size, the two women stepped out onto one of the four balconies facing the campus. Even in the brilliant afternoon sunlight, the tall buildings of Oxford glittered in the distance.

"Can you believe I'm going there?" she asked in a soft voice.

"I believe it," Buffy replied, glancing down. Somehow having Willow moving into her new place was reminding her even more of that fact she was leaving. And tomorrow was the day she was going to have to say goodbye to everyone… "Want to go for lunch?"

"Let's!" Willow replied eagerly, and both women returned inside.

The sun was going down behind the buildings when Buffy and Willow returned to her apartment. They had been discussing so many things, from Sunnydale to the potential roommate Willow could find. Willow was advocating for another American exchange student, and Buffy was pushing for someone of the male species. She even offered to broadcast Willow's empty room to her Ministry friends, something that Willow seemed to automatically shy away from.

Buffy was finding that saying goodbye to Willow again was going to be even harder. Willow seemed to realize Buffy was being silent for a reason. She walked over and rested her hand upon Buffy's shoulder. "Buffy, don't…" she said quietly. "Just don't."

"I'm trying," Buffy said, offering a tumultuous smile. "It's just so hard, and you're like—"

"I know, Buffy," Willow replied, sitting down on her leather sofa. "But the thing is, you'll be back, right?"

"Intending on it," Buffy said tightly.

"Then this isn't a real goodbye," Willow said firmly. "At least, not like the last time was."

"I think I like the way your mind works," Buffy said, leaning over and resting her head on top of Willow's. "I'm gonna miss you, you know that."

"You'll be so busy being a real fightin' girl that you'll forget about us academic types," Willow said with a sad smile.

"Don't count on it," Buffy replied, kissing the top of Willow's head before taking her own purse. "And don't get killed? That's the one Buffy-rule I'm going to impose."

"Right. Now more Willow life-and-death situations. Got it," Willow said, giving her a tiny thumbs-up.

Buffy turned at the door and stared back at where Willow was going through the abstract art books heaped onto her coffee table. "I love you, Wil."

"Love you, too, Buff. Be good."

"Yeah," Buffy said, closing the door behind her. "Being good is what usually gets me dead."

She took a taxi back to her flat, feeling slightly morose. All of her things had been packed into two small bags, ready to be transported out as she was. All of her weapons had been packed in a single bag along with replacement weapons just in case. She felt like her mind was becoming an irreversible checklist as she considered taking the knife Faith had given her for Christmas.

All thoughts flew out of her head the instant she walked inside her flat.

It was rather dark inside, but there were hundreds of candles, some sparkling on the surface and others suspended in the air. They were all lit, giving off a soft vanilla scent.

"What's this?" she asked, dropping her purse on the floor near the door as she pushed it shut. Her eyes were filled with wonder as she took in the candles, which seemed to float into two separate lines, giving her a free path into the rest of the place.

"Surprise," said a quiet voice from behind her. She turned and saw Oliver standing, hidden, in the small kitchen space in the corner between the sink and the oven.

"You did this for me?" she asked, blinking as she glanced around the large room. "Oliver, this is amazing!"

"Of course it's for you," he teased, stepping into the light and reaching for a long, flat box on the island top. "So is this."

Buffy took the box from him and shook it lightly. "What's this?" she asked in a teasing voice as she pulled off the shiny white ribbon. Lifting off the top, she pushed apart the silver tissue paper and saw, nestled in the folds inside, a dress. "You bought me clothes?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I figured I could share an afternoon with your closest friend from the states," Oliver said, grinning. "She was most helpful when it came to your style."

Buffy lifted the garment from the box and stared at it. "It's… blue."

He came up behind her and encircled her waist with his arms. "I think I'd like to see you change into that," he breathed into her ear, causing her to jump and giggle slightly. "And then, we'll have a little dinner. I decided to cater to tonight's palette."

"You decided to what?" she asked him, confused. He just laughed and pulled away.

"Would you go? I have to get everything set out. You got home too damned quick," Oliver said, pushing her towards the stairs gently. Taking the rather large hint, she jogged up to her room and walked inside. It was so cold and empty inside, which was sad to see. Pulling off her blouse and trousers, she pulled on the dress. Seeing the last of her perfumes and makeup at the vanity, she sprayed herself with the perfume and touched up her concealer. Smiling at her reflection, she let down her hair and let it flow over her shoulders. Running a brush through her longer blonde mane, she finally set her brush down and stared at her reflection.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was nervous.

She reappeared in her bare feet a few minutes later. Along with the candles now there were roses and quite a lot of them over every available surface. At the dining room table were two silver dishes with tops concealing their contents. A bottle of champagne had been uncorked and poured into two fluted glasses and rested inside a bucket of ice. Oliver was standing in the kitchen, discarding her box and the tissue paper. He gestured to the table when he saw her and she walked over and sat down. He joined her a few moments later.

"So now I get to see your famous cooking skills," she said teasingly as she pulled her cloth napkin into her lap. Lifting the top of her silver dish, she smiled at the steamed vegetables and fish entrée on the plate below. "Oh, my… this looks wonderful."

"I hope it tastes as good," Oliver smirked as they started eating in silence. They talked about everything and anything over their appetizing dinner and the rather bubbly champagne. After collecting the dishes, she protested the fact he wanted to clean up after preparing for her such a nice dinner. She stood next to him and wiped the dishes as he washed them.

"I hope you don't mind me staying here the next few days until we get our final assignments," Oliver said, handing her a stack of plates.

"Oh, not at all," she said, slipping them back into their cabinet. "I was kind of hoping you would, considering I think you live here now."

"I'm beginning to think I do," he admitted.

The next few moments after were rather awkward. Buffy leaned against the island, sipping her champagne and wishing fervently she'd put her hair up, since she was starting to feel warm. She watched Oliver move around, picking up random things and placing them down in other random places. It seemed as they were both uncertain of what would happen next.

One thing was for sure: she definitely had to thank him for making what could have been a sad night that much brighter. Dinner the night before at Oliver's house had been fantastic. It had been good seeing everyone again, since she'd spent the day with Laurel, too. The only person she had left to say goodbye to was Harry. Well, him and the entire household at Grimmauld Place.

When he passed her by again, she didn't hesitate. She set down her glass and leapt at him, knocking him back into the kitchen.

That was apparently all they needed.

Pushing her into the oven, she was able to get the leverage she needed to completely wrap herself around him. As they stumbled back and forth in the kitchen, finally tumbling onto the floor of the living room, they broke apart, laughing. The roses he had so carefully placed had been scattered everywhere. The candles still twinkled above them. Slowly, she moved over and placed her hands and chin on his chest, gazing thoughtfully at him.

"Thank you," she said with her pretty smile.

"I should think we established this," he said, pulling her face to his again.

Slowly, a smirk spread across her face. "I got a better idea."

"What's that?" he asked, pushing himself up on his elbow as she straightened to a seated position, pulling the strap of her new blue gown back into its place on her shoulder.

"A game," she said playfully as she helped him to his feet. Turning, she glanced at her bedroom a dozen silver steps away.

"I don't know if I want to play a game," he said. His gaze had turned serious as he stared at her. "I was kind of hoping that tonight would be the kind of night you'd remember forever."

"We've already had a few of those," she said, smiling gently as they both ascended the steps. "I was just thinking that maybe if I could try and goad you into something, I could seduce you the good old-fashioned way."

His eyes widened as he stared at her. Pushing open her bedroom door, she walked inside.

He walked in after her, using the edge of his foot to shut the door, sealing them inside. He watched as she sat down on her bed, slowly pulling her hair up. He moved until he was behind her and lifted one of the roses he'd carried upstairs, running it slowly up the skin on her left arm.

She froze slightly, her eyes slowly turning to see the soft red petals. She lowered her arms just as he started trailing kisses in the same path his rose had taken.

"I love you," he said, after pulling away and wrapping his arm around her, pulling her back into him. His hand gently caressed her arm, past the tattoo barely visible under her skin and back up to her face as he cradled her head delicately.

"I love you," she said, offering him a sly smile as she brought his face down to hers. His hand reached under the silky fabric of her dress and pulled her closer to him. Candles from downstairs had appeared in the bedroom, floating all around them, giving this moment and this memory a surreal effect.

Their brilliant light dimmed after a few hours as Buffy turned in her light sleep, her eyes opening as she wrapped herself in her red satin sheets. Oliver was sleeping next to her and she gently reached out a hand and trailed it down his brawny arm. She was going to miss those arms. She was going to miss those eyes and that accent… and she was probably going to miss his energy most of all. She sighed as she rested her head on his arm. His opposite arm came from behind him and wrapped itself securely around her and she closed her eyes, not wanting this night to ever end.

Bright sunlight floated into the room hours later. Buffy opened her eyes at the familiar tapping at the window and moved to wrap herself in a long red robe. Shuffling over to the window, she paid the owl for delivery and brought the Daily Prophet back to the bed and sat down on it as Oliver blinked up at her, yawning.

"Good morning," he said, sitting up and stretching as he looked at the paper over her shoulder.

"Good morning," she said, moving herself so that he could see what she was reading.

"When do you have to go?" he asked, kissing her shoulder lightly before moving away from her.

"Soon," she said, her voice sounding less than happy.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, pulling on his own blue robe as the sheet fell away.

"There's time enough for that later," Buffy said playfully, tossing the paper aside. "I think I'm going to shower first."

Oliver looked surprised at this, but just shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll wait."

She rose and walked over to him and took his lapels before kissing him deeply. "I never said I was going alone," she said, dropping the rather obvious hint as she turned, disappearing into the adjoining room. It took him less than an instant afterwards to follow her inside.

- - - - -

Chapter 4... Buffy heads to... Bulgaria? And ten things to do when it's raining on a train...

Chapter 5... Faith realizes her story isn't over yet... and the lives it puts in danger is a bad, bad thing. Buffy begins to realize that world travel only works when the country you're trying to leave lets you leave alive...

- - - - -

Random Notes

Before you sit there and wonder why Buffy's going to Bulgaria, of all places, just remember a vampire hunter once went to Albania. I just chose a random eastern European country, and since Bulgaria is familiar, well, why not. She'll be moving around a lot.

The next chapter will also explain a few more things you might like to know... such as, who made Head Boy and Head Girl, etc.

- - - - -

Reviewer Comments

Judging from the reviews, some of you have NO idea what is to come! That makes me happy knowing there'll be more surprises and twists. The prophecy doesn't NECESSARILY mean the Slayers are going to die... but it does mean than SOMEONE will. Putting it together with their own prophecy from the other story should make some more sense... but, alas, that's all I'm giving away. There's only, like, 27 chapters left (or so I hope). I'll give out Christmas cookies, too, if you review! I want to know how this adds up to the first part!

And, for some reason, I'm feeling sort of writing-generous lately (maybe that's because I've already finished my Secret Santa fictions)… so if you have a request or something you'd like to see… I may just write it. I'm sort of getting ahead in this story again, and the last few chapters were just shipped to Grace!

To the comments...

**AnitaBlake/BuffyFan**-- Thank you :)

**sparky24 **-- Their dreams don't necessarily mean they're going to die... or something like that. I have it in my head, I know what I want to do, and I hope you'll just trust me enough to put it out. Tara may or may not come into the story yet... if she does, I have an idea of how she will. Spike probably won't, unless I want this one thing to happen, and I'm not sure I do. Gee, was that vague enough for you? My apologies!

**Naitch03 **-- Don't say that, or you'll jinx this story... and I'll go around killing ALL the little characters. Or, not... Anyway, I think Lupin got there from Buffy's warning, since he should have been at the meeting... in other words, he signaled the arrival of the cavalry, so to speak. As for Faith's role in what's to come, let's just say a certain You-Know-Who knows where she is... and he's just realized that this was the girl he was to have sacrificed in this honor. Little does she know that kind of responsibility is a curse... literally. And, yeah, Buffy not really blaming Harry for anything.

**RedsLover03** -- oh, my... there was a bit in the previous story that said something about Buffy leaving England to do Ministry work. She's a vampire hunter, so she's leaving to do that. Where she's going is described in the spoiler above, and the reason why is in the next chapter. Why is she leaving? Because she wants a career of her own, and this allows her to do the Slayer stuff without threatening other lives, and she's far enough away from the action that she can be all Slayer-girl again.

**Goddessa39 **-- If I had a choice, I'd stay up and write for, oh, fifteen hours a day or so. That's how boring my life would be. As for the "bleeding", well, you'll just have to see what happens. Buffy and Faith are in this to the end. They're already connected with an ancient magic, one that binds them as Slayers and one that binds them through magic (ala the fact they did the spell to bring Sirius back). It doesn't mean they're going to die. And I can completely see Giles doing a little walk down the aisle... but the when and who is unclear so far. I have about three different paths to take... and while my beta is awesome in helping me figure these things out, she's almost as lost as I am. I'm going to say two out of three should have a happy ending. There may be all three, but definitely two. As for beta-reading, I'm okay-ish. I can do grammar and punctuation, and minor edits. But if you want really really strong edits and plot pickings and all that detailed stuff, I'll recommend Grace, my wonderful Beta. Or Alyson, my almost-a-sister-yet-still-a-Beta-and-newly-a-writer-herself. They're both staff betas for the guild I belong to.

**Tigerfanfrv**-- yep, chapter's up. And more to come... probably a lot more, sadly.

**DarkAngelMali**-- Death will follow... be careful what you wish for, it might just come true. :) Kidding... not really. You never know. I've brought Cynthia back... I need another female role... and she seemed like a good character to work on. You'll see if she's changed at all. I'm hoping to update twice a week, but that's even asking a lot. Blame my employers... Christmas time is the season when they overwork the hell out of us.

**hermionefairy**-- Your underscore disappeared! I feel bad... I hate spelling people's names wrong. Heh. Buffy's not mad at Harry. She has no reason to be. But that's Harry for you. As for the dream, it did mean something, it works with more dreams, and it has a reason. A meaning. And a purpose. You'll see soon. Thank you :)

**jim**** hawking jr **-- You didn't have to wait long. See? Everything's all right between the siblings.

**General Mac **-- I'm hoping no more cliffhangers. I used to adore using them, for the shock effect. And after reading a few too many (gives a death glare at a ertain author), I've grown to despise them. I'll guarantee one more though. And it's coming up shortly-ish.

**CapriceAnn**-- You are so right! Buffy and Oliver work well together. Harry needs his sister. Faith needs her brother. She may even need Harry. It's one whole big circle of need, need and more need! I've read your story... and all I can say so far is that it's a good beginning! It can also been seen as an "mmmmm" story, one of those you'd love to cozy up to late at night before a fireplace. Or at least, that's my opinion. As for your challenge, I might be able to work something out! I haven't written anything that... intense... since my old JetC days. But I'm willing to give it a shot... I'm only ask I can use this story though!

**electric**** pancake **-- not having homework is fun! Dreams are fun to write, especially when there are more to come! Thanks for reviewing!

**lrachel2005** -- I really plan to finish it!

- - - - -


	4. Barriers

This is about three weeks past due… it's not the longest chapter, either, but at least there's action, angst and anger… the best you can get from any good fanfiction!

- - - - -

**Chapter 4**

**Barriers**

- - - - -

It was just after eight in the morning when Buffy arrived at Grimmauld Place with Oliver Wood, both of them looking rather happy given the fact they were about to be separated for the next four months. Only Hermione was awake, sitting in the dining room, staring at the dancing red flames as Buffy walked inside, her face full of concern.

"Hermione?" she asked softly. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she replied, with the faintest shake of her head. "Really, it's just… silly…"

Laying on the table next to her hand was a letter. Reaching forward, Buffy picked it up. "May I?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes still staring forward. "You're not going to believe what you read."

Buffy read the first few lines and with widening eyes, set the letter aside and grinned. "Probably not, but you deserve a hell of a lot of congratulations for that. Head girl, huh? Just like my mother."

Hermione let out the teeniest of smiles as she looked down. "I got this letter the day before Harry and I… before we…" Her face slackened slightly as she shrugged. "It really doesn't matter."

"Does he know?" Buffy asked, taking the seat across from her. "Because he should. You are just one of the most important people in his life, Hermione."

"We both know who really matters," Hermione said, a tint of bitterness in her voice.

"He means a lot to me," Buffy admitted, leaning on her elbows. "But you've known him your entire life at Hogwarts. I've had one year. I'd like to make sure he stays around when I get back. I know you're loyal to him. He means the world to you, and maybe someday he'll see that you really mean the world to him. I know you'd love nothing more than to profess your undying love and loyalty… but for now…" Her voice trailed off. "I guess it's time we all go our separate ways."

"How are you and Oliver staying together?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I love him," Buffy said, her gaze unwavering. "For now… it's enough. I've been through apocalypse romances and romances where my date actually gets attacked… but for now, it's all I need. I know someone is here for me when I get back. I don't know what's going to happen or how it's going to work out, but in the end I'm coming here. To home."

"There's more than just Oliver here waiting for you," Hermione said earnestly. "If it means anything…"

"You're like my partner in crime, Hermione," Buffy said, grinning. "How could I forget you?" Then her face sobered as she reached into the pocket of her jeans. "I know I said I was going to stop buying you things, but I saw it at Diagon Alley a few days ago and well, considering you made Head Girl and conveniently forgot to tell me about it… well…"

"I told you to quit buying me things," Hermione said, taking the small, wrapped gift. "It's not like I'm a deprived Muggle."

"You're kind of like the little sister I've never had," Buffy said, watching Hermione unwrap a small black leather case. "It's just as fun to shop for someone as it is to shop for yourself, you know."

"I'll believe you," Hermione said, opening the case. "You got me a compass…"

"In case you ever needed to find your way," Buffy said blithely.

Hermione glanced up at her. "Do you not know that these don't work at Hogwarts? It's all in _Hogwarts, A History._"

Buffy was smirking at her now, looking rather amused.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Hermione asked, realization flashing in her eyes.

"Yup," Buffy grinned.

"You knew all along this wouldn't work!" Hermione said, her tone accusing.

"Yup."

"So, why did you give it to me?" Hermione demanded.

"The top unscrews and opens to a secret chamber. It's useful storage, really," Buffy explained, reaching across the table and plucking the compass out of her hands. She gently unscrewed the top and set it down. As she moved, the light fell across her tattoo, showing the soft red scar just under her skin. Hermione stared at it a moment and shifted, frowning.

"It's…" she said, attempting to find something to say. She tried to force her eyes back to the compass lying all picked apart on the table, but all she could see was the burning red Dark Mark on the young woman's arm. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," Buffy admitted. "It changes colors a few times. Normally when danger lurks, it'll turn green. I don't know too much about how it works, but it's a damned good tracking signal." She covered the Mark with her right hand and straightened. For a moment, an awkward silence fell between them.

Footsteps sounded outside the room as Sirius walked into the dining room, looking sleepy and disheveled. He blinked when he saw Buffy and Hermione sitting at the table, staring down at their hands. "Good morning!" he said briskly, walking past them.

"Good morning," both replied, somewhat unenthusiastically.

"Why the long faces?" he asked, frowning as he disappeared into the pantry.

"I'm about to leave for a country I don't even know the language of," Buffy replied, leaning heavily on her arms. "That and the fact I'm leaving everyone when…"

"It's dark times, Sirius," Hermione said, her eyes full of concern as she gazed at Buffy. "I don't think any of us should be separated."

He emerged a few minutes later, looking thoughtful as he set an armload of groceries aside. "If I'm not mistaken, didn't you choose Bulgaria?" he asked, setting a large slab of bacon aside.

"You're not mistaken," Buffy said. "It's best if I just get away for awhile."

"You're one of the strongest weapons our side has," Sirius said acutely. "To lose you before the end of the war could be disastrous for Harry and for everyone else fighting here."

"I know this," Buffy said in a voice of determined steel. "I don't want to leave anyone… it's just I have to do this. It's safer for Harry. I'm just… I can't be here. I choose my duty above my family, and it's something I've done before and it's probably something I'll always have to do. I was chosen for a reason, Sirius. Maybe it's because I'm the one that has to make these hard decisions that kill me every single time."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but a different voice from the doorway said, "Sirius, lay off."

It was Molly Weasley.

"Molly," Buffy said, glancing up.

"Oh, good morning!" Mrs. Weasley said, walking over and cheerfully sitting down at the table with the other two women. "I trust you slept well, Hermione? And how about you, Buffy? I… oh, what's this?" She had just found the still-open Head Girl letter on the table and glanced at it, her eyebrows slightly raised. When she saw the crest and the emblem, her face broke into a wonderful smile. "Oh, Hermione! Well done!"

"What has our dear Hermione done?" Sirius asked, his voice muffled from behind an armload of pots and pans that he dropped on the table in front of him, breathing hard.

"She made Head Girl," Mrs. Weasley said proudly, a motherly twinkle in her eye as she held up the letter for Sirius to read. "Isn't this just wonderful? I feel like my own daughter just made Head Girl. With Hermione as Head Girl and Ginny as Prefect, I feel that both of my girls are in quite the position of power, wouldn't you agree, Buffy?"

"Oh, yes," Buffy said, grinning. "I'm proud of my girls."

Hermione beamed at them, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. "I would really rather you not broadcast this around," she said, slipping the letter back inside her robes. "The last thing I need are more Percy jokes on me… again!"

"It's quite all right, dear," Molly assured her, patting her hand. "Do we know which boy made Head Boy yet?"

"No," Hermione said, frowning. "I'm sure that if either Harry or Ron would have made it, they would have told us by now, right?"

"Unless they weren't sure who made Head Girl," Buffy replied. "They might have waited to see who made it before broadcasting it, you know? I mean, what if Pansy Parkinson or Padma Patil had made it? I know Padma's not so bad, but Pansy? Ouch… I'd feel bad for _whoever _made Head Boy in that case." She stood up then and walked around the end of the table, helping Sirius get breakfast together.

"You may be right," Hermione said, her nose wrinkling. "I really hope that foul cow Parkinson doesn't get _anything_ after last year or the year before! It serves her right to lose Head Girl!"

"Come on, keep speaking your feelings," Buffy said, her eyes sparkling as she mixed a large bowl of eggs as Sirius kept adding spices to the mixture. "Don't hold back on our accounts."

"Ooh, if I could just get my hands on her neck…" Hermione began, her eyes twinkling as she gazed hard at the table.

Ten minutes later, the kitchen was filled with the smell of cooking breakfast. Others began to wake up and filter downstairs, yawning and stretching as they entered the dining room hopefully. Oliver reappeared with Emma, who had just arrived, pulling off her overcoat and complaining about the latest heat wave to hit London.

"It's absolutely dreadful outside," Emma said, dropping into the chair next to Buffy. "All sunny and warm… I suppose it must be close to thirty degrees outside, wouldn't you think?"

"Don't ask me," Buffy said, shaking her head as she pulled her coffee lovingly towards her. "I can't do the math to convert."

"How did you get here?" Emma asked her, accepting her own cup of coffee from Oliver, who was serving them. "And since when did you convert him into the domestic diva? He'd look kind of pretty in one of those Muggle French maid costumes, wouldn't you think?"

"Maybe for a Bachelorette party," Buffy mused thoughtfully, her thumb circling the rim of her cup.

"As in a pre-wedding party?" Emma asked lightly, her eyes glancing at her friend hard.

Buffy grinned. "You don't miss a beat, do you, Em? Maybe someday we'll be attending a Bachelorette party for someone other than just me."

"Right," Emma said slowly, watching as Oliver sat down across from them, a mug of tea in hand. "Because you're probably the closest one to the altar, despite the fact you'll be three thousand miles away by tomorrow morning."

"I arrive in Bulgaria before sunrise," Buffy said, opening up her travel itinerary in front of her. "I meet with the Bulgarian Ministry and then they'll take me to my new pad. I'll meet my team Monday night and then we'll be getting to work. Apparently Bulgaria has a serious vampire threat, which makes me job all the easier. Can you imagine how much fun it'll be to kick all those asses? I won't even _need_ magic… just my good, old Slayer strength." She gave a thin smile as she fingered the tiny blue gem she wore on her neck. "No more little stones to hide away my power anymore, no sir-ee."

"Breakfast is served!" Sirius announced, approaching the table with platters of food. Both Emma and Buffy stood up and, tucking her travel items away, helped Sirius serve a loaded table of hungry Order members.

"This is the best 'Get the hell out of my country' breakfast I've had in awhile," Buffy said enthusiastically as she buttered her roll.

Harry, sitting at the end of the table next to Ron, glanced down the long board at his sister, who was talking to Emma and Oliver, looking relaxed, refreshed and, dare he think it, excited about the opportunities opening up before her. He was quite sad that she had chosen to leave him at a time like this, but he knew her heart was in the right place. She was doing this to protect him because even now he could see the faint outline of the Dark Mark on her left arm under her white blouse.

He thought about Professor Snape then, and his stomach gave an almighty lurch. Their Potions Professor had been an outcast most of his life, but even more so now with the Dark Mark. Voldemort had just given his sister the same lonely life sentence and watching her pretend to act normally was rather painful to him. He was going to have to say goodbye to her in only a few hours and he wasn't looking forward to it.

He didn't notice Hermione staring at him, but when he felt her eyes and glanced at her, she was busying herself with her bacon and eggs.

After breakfast, Buffy stood up, setting down her empty coffee mug. Everyone glanced up at her, some curious and others sad. They knew what was to come and after a year of getting to know her were rather hesitant. But she gave them a brave, tremulous smile and sighed. "I know that despite the fact I've only got a few hours left here, there's no where else I'd rather be. This has become a second home to me, and you all my family. I just wanted you to know that. Molly, Arthur, thank you for taking me into your home last year when I was new and wet behind the ears. All of you Weasleys have been a blessing, and I wanted you to know that. Emma, Oli… could a girl ask for better friends? And…" There was a tear fluttering on her eyelash now as she turned to Harry. "Harry, could a girl ask for a better brother? I know it seems stupid I'm leaving you all, but if I had a choice…" Her voice broke then, and Emma gently tugged her back down into her chair.

Sirius was gazing at her thoughtfully, a slight smile on his face. "You're doing the same thing your Mother would have done," he said, bowing his head slightly. "You can ask for no higher praise than that."

"You know how fantastic it has been to share my room with you," Ginny commented, grinning. "It was like getting a third big sister… and that's not something I've always had with six older brothers."

"Hear, hear!" Ron said gloomily, glancing around the table. Fred and George were already at work in Diagon Alley and wouldn't have the chance to say goodbye to her, which he supposed was a good thing. They had a tendency to completely bring everyone to either peals of laughter or bursts of tears at the drop of a pin.

Emma had wrapped her arm around Buffy's shoulders. "Don't you start talking like you're not going to come back," she said, giving the smaller girl a good shake. "That's just jinxing your luck into saying you won't come back."

Harry glanced up at these words and stared at Buffy's face. She was still smiling, but it was rather forced. She was trying so desperately hard not to cry and he felt his heart go out to her as he stood up, walked around the table, and stopped at her chair, hugging her from behind. "You have no idea what you've done for me," he said quietly. "When I had no one, you came out of nowhere… and I just wanted you to know that had you not come when you did, I would probably be dead right now."

"Oh, Harry," Buffy said, her voice lost in a wail. Turning, she hugged her brother tightly.

"I don't want you to say goodbye," he told her firmly, taking Emma's words to heart. "Because then I'll start thinking you won't come back and I'll lose you… again."

"You won't," she said, her voice firm as she pulled back, looking resolute. "I'm coming back. I promise I won't—"

"What did I say?" he asked impatiently, prodding her shoulder. "No more goodbyes. Besides, I can't stand to see you cry."

She nodded, taking a deep breath before giving him a tight smile. "You're right."

"I know I am."

"Smartass."

"That's a new one," he said reprovingly, wrinkling his nose.

"Dork," she added, leaning over and mussing his already messy hair.

"You could use a non-Yankee insult, you know," he said, grinning.

"Alright," she said, and added, as though it were an afterthought, "you sodding ponce."

"That's my sister," Harry grinned, patting her shoulder. "You'll do all right if you keep talking Buffy-speak."

Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Don't remind me."

He caught Ron's eye and look away before he could start laughing.

Sirius was just starting to clear away the table when the doorbell rang. The absence of Mrs. Black's usual shrieks and screamed insults were gone, leaving just a heavy dong behind. Mrs. Weasley rose to get the door as Buffy sat down again. Harry went immediately to get her more coffee. Molly returned a few minutes later, grinning as Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt all walked in, beaming. "We have company!" she announced, watching as her children and Hermione quickly stood up, clearing away their spots for the newcomers.

"My mum would have come had she not been working this morning," Emma told Buffy. "She works as Head Librarian for the largest Wizarding Library in England, you know."

"I didn't know there was a Wizarding library," said Buffy, frowning at the fact she had no idea what Emma's mother did. She knew from previous questions that her Father had died from an attack on the Order nearly twenty years before, before Emma had even been born.

"Oh, yes," Emma said, grinning enthusiastically. "Mum says she'd rather have me work there than at the Ministry, but since I got in already, it's kind of hard to say no."

"I sure as heck wouldn't say no," Buffy replied, recalling all of the hours spent in Sunnydale High's library with Giles and the rest of her friends. "You get to work where all the action is."

"If action is walking around and stamping flying purple airplanes with approval, then I've got all the action I need," Emma said sarcastically. "Although I did apply for a position in the gaming department, but I haven't heard back from them yet."

"You will," Buffy assured her. "We all start in life at the bottom."

"And you're going to be hunting vampires in Bulgaria while I'm still trying to get the purple ink from underneath my fingernails," Emma said with a sigh. "Explain to me how you got so far off the bottom."

"Fate, opportunity and a little thing I like to call destiny," Buffy said, crossing her arms. "I was chosen for this life, Em… I didn't exactly get a choice when my first Watcher told me how to kill a vampire."

"True enough," Emma said, leaning back in her chair as Harry returned with Buffy's coffee. "I suppose the entire Ministry will be looking for their little moments when they can finally gain back the trust of the Wizarding community."

"It's really a mess, isn't it?" Oliver said from across the table. "The Ministry, I mean. I've only been there a few times this past week, and everyone is worried about defection in the ranks."

"Which resorts me to stamping the company memos," Emma said gloomily.

"That's exactly what they're worried about," Oliver said, his eyes narrowing. "They're worried that job satisfaction is going to drop to a point where a large number are going to walk out. We don't have much for unions over here, unless you're a sporting team, so the best you can hope for is to stick it out."

"Would you like my job?" Emma asked, her tone sarcastic. "I don't think anyone who can think, walk and talk would want it."

"You're just a few months out of Hogwarts," Oliver pointed out.

"And my dilemma continues," Emma replied, rolling her eyes. "Look, Oliver… you got it easy. You get to go off and play Quidditch and live happily ever after. Buffy here gets to go and kill demons for a living. I get to sit around and stamp memos. That doesn't leave a lot of room for hero-ship."

"You're right," Buffy said softly, disrupting the growing argument.

They both turned to look at her. Harry dropped into the corner chair, glancing at his sister.

"I am?" Emma asked softly.

Buffy nodded. "There aren't enough heroes in this world. I mean, there's Harry who has to save the world or die trying, right? And then there are people like me who fight because I was chosen to. There are also people like you who want to do something good for the world but find themselves at a dead end. You're not stuck in the middle of nothing until you realize that half of your life has passed you by and you're still at the beginning. Every world needs a hero, Emma. Everyone needs a hero. I've always been one because I was chosen to be. Well, I'm not."

"Of course you are," Harry said quietly. "Do you know how much you've done in your life?"

"Four years of slaying vampires isn't my idea of a hero," Buffy replied.

"What are you talking about? Of course it is!" Emma said, aghast.

"You know what defines a hero for me?" Buffy asked, sounding irritable. "A true champion is someone who wants to make a difference, who never gives up, and who gives everything they have no matter what. They rise above their human weaknesses and they're strong enough to admit why they've failed. To me, that's what a hero is." She turned to Emma. "You know, you don't have to look at life as something you've lost. If you can find a way to see that you're gaining something, that's incredible."

"Since when did you get all thoughtful?" Oliver asked, watching her, an expression of pride on his face.

"I've been spending far too much time around you," she replied, her lips twisting into a smirk. Turning back to Emma, she added, "Don't look down because you're not doing what you want. You still have the rest of your life ahead of you."

"I guess," Emma admitted. "It's just that… what this world needs is an organized team to fight off the growing bad guys and well… all they really have is the Order."

"There you go," Buffy said archly. "You belong in the Order and you know when the time comes they'll need you. They'll need all of us. And we're doing this for him." She put her arm around Harry and dragged his chair closer to his. "He's the big gun we all need, and we watch his back. We stop for nothing until this darkness is gone, and we can finally live in peace again."

The thought of living past Voldemort and past the darkness brought a smile to each of their faces.

"There is always hope," Buffy added, watching Emma's wistful smile. "Just think about how much you want it."

"I'm really going to miss you," Emma said softly.

"You'll have Katie and Percy around," Buffy replied gently. "Don't worry… I won't be in Antarctica or something. I'll find a way to make contact."

"It's going to be a lonely life," Harry added.

"It will be, but it's nothing I'm not used to. I get a team of fellow demon hunters, and this is something I'm going to look forward to," she replied, grinning. Seeing the wary look on Harry's face, she added, "Please don't worry about me. Worry about you. This is your last year, your test year, and you have so much left to learn and to do. You'll be fine, Potter. You'll always have these people watching your back. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need to, because now that the Order and the Ministry are working together, there shouldn't be any more barriers or boundaries."

"We all know how it turned out the last time," Harry said, a small trace of bitterness in his voice. "Fudge didn't believe me, the entire Ministry mocked me and when the truth finally came out they were all ignorant about it."

"It happens, Harry," Buffy said gently. "It always happens to the best of us, you know. We forget to thank the messenger that's trying to kill us."

"You don't have to be sarcastic about it," Harry grumbled.

"I wasn't," Buffy replied, lifting her mug and sipping. "See, the thing is, you get used to one lifestyle and then this big evil group swoops in and takes that lifestyle from right beneath your feet. Well, they really didn't have any legal issues with it all, but they were offering me a chance to meet this other lifestyle I never knew I had. So, when the big evil group blows up, everyone looks at the Slayer like… why couldn't I stop them, even though they tried purposely to destroy my life? There you go, and that's calling thanking the messenger that's trying to kill us."

"That made no sense to me whatsoever," Emma said, blinking. "Then again, you do have a particular way with words, Buff."

"I know," Buffy said with a dramatic sigh, "but I like it. It keeps me unique."

"Bizarre is more like it," Harry replied, his nose wrinkling. "Then again, it is your gift."

"I'll have to agree with the brother, there, Buffy," Emma said, grinning at the look on her friend's face.

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you both attack me," she said at last, crossing her arms huffily.

"I think you hurt her feelings," Oliver said, adopting a baby-voice that was quite dreadful as he smirked at the other two. "Little Buffy doesn't like her feelings to get hurt."

"Little Buffy kicks the ass of anyone who calls her little," Buffy said, her eyes narrowing as she regarded her boyfriend for a moment. "You don't get a get-away-from-a-serious-ass-kicking-for-free card just because you're dating the said ass kicker."

"I suppose not," Oliver said, still smirking. "But d'you know, you're quite adorable all indignant."

Harry made a violent hurling noise, causing Buffy to smack his shoulder, her eyes never leaving Oliver's face. "Nope, I'm not buying it. Cute with the sucking up, but still… I'm not really buying it. It was an excellent try though. Keep working on your sarcasm and maybe, just maybe, I'll believe you."

"You abuse sarcasm," Emma replied, laughing. "What's to say the rest of us cannot compete?"

Buffy shrugged. "I like my sarcasm. It's like my best friend who doesn't have another brain."

This time, Harry carefully avoided Emma's eye.

The rest of the Order approached them then, starting with Lupin. Buffy stood up to talk with them, leaving the others sitting around the table. As soon as Buffy was out of earshot, Emma turned around to face Oliver. "So, how was last night?" she asked, her voice half-teasing, half-serious.

"Perfect," he admitted. "It was absolutely perfect. I wouldn't have changed it for anything."

"Did you… ask her anything?" Emma prompted delicately.

Harry glanced from Emma to Oliver, trying to figure out what one was saying to the other.

"No, I did not ask her anything," Oliver said, his voice dropping so not to be overheard by the Weasleys, already speaking with the Order, or by Lupin, who was talking to Sirius right behind Emma and Harry. "I'm going to wait and see how things go after she gets back."

"That may be best," Emma said grudgingly. "I was just hoping you would at least be romantic your last night in England."

"I was romantic!" Oliver protested. "There were candles and flowers and dinner… not to mention…"

"You bought her clothes, didn't you?" Emma asked suddenly. "Damn, I knew you would! You're too predictable."

"I'm what?" Oliver asked, sounding aghast. "What did I do now?"

"You bought her clothes!" Emma said, as though trying to explain this concept to an unruly four-year-old. "You bought your girlfriend clothes she didn't pick out herself."

"Is this a problem or am I being attacked because I wanted to do something nice?" Oliver asked, looking more lost than before.

"Oh, my," Emma said, leaning across the table and patting his hand. "At least you still got the rest right."

"I don't know what the problem is," he began hotly, but Harry quickly spoke up before they could start arguing again.

"Drop it," he said coolly, spotting Buffy laughing at something Tonks was saying near the doorway. "Before you know it, she'll be gone and all of this arguing would have been over something as stupid as buying her… what _did _you buy her, anyway?" he asked curiously.

Emma gave Oliver a triumphant smile. "Told you it was a bad idea. Next time, try listening to Katie and I when we're trying to give you sound advice!"

Oliver just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Harry. "It was a blue dress. Willow helped me pick it out."

"Willow… helped you pick out a dress… for my sister?" Harry asked, his eyes widening. "Wow."

"What's wrong with that?" Oliver asked in frustration. "I happen to think it was a great idea!"

"I don't know about you," Emma said sadly, shaking her head. "I mean, you're a beautiful person but your tastes are a little… eccentric."

"Speak for yourself," Harry said, frowning as he glanced at her.

Before another argument could come up, Sirius stepped in, taking Buffy's coffee cup. Harry immediately fell silent and turned back to where his sister was now standing next to Hermione, her arm around the younger girl's shoulder, her eyes proud and her lips beaming. Hermione appeared to be glowing and Harry found himself eyeing her before turning back, sighing.

He didn't realize that both Emma and Oliver had been watching him. They exchanged a long look before Emma finally turned to him. "I'm guessing something happened between you and her."

"Something did," Harry said with the clear air of not wanting to discuss it further. She looked far too cheerful to be as miserable as he felt. While she'd spent her days locked in her room reading Merlin-knew-what, Harry forced himself to act normally around the rest of the household. Being with Ron made things easier, he'd decided, recalling all of the afternoons spent playing Wizard's chess or launching mattresses down the steep flights of stairs at Grimmauld Place. Buffy had come once to sweep Hermione away for an afternoon and when Hermione had returned, she'd looked somewhat happier.

There was a friendship there that Harry wasn't too willing to doubt had started when the two had been trapped together by Death Eaters. They'd nearly been killed together. On top of that, there was the issue of Hermione dating Buffy's younger brother. Lastly, the issue of Hermione being the one to tell Buffy how to find Quentin was, above all, the reason why they were so close. Buffy had become one of the most mistrusted people at Hogwarts while Hermione had finished off the year in her withdrawn shell. And yet, despite the fact that they had been in life-and-death situations, there was a deep bond between them. Harry could see it. Harry could trust it. He knew that if Buffy was in trouble, Hermione wouldn't hesitate to save her. The same held true for Hermione, he figured. Being trapped in a water hole together against their will had changed their relationship for the better. Or maybe the fact they'd shared a room for a good, decent part of the summer. Whatever the reason was, he stared at Hermione and Buffy with a sad smile on his face, wishing fervently that things could be different.

How could things be different when he was so cold inside? He knew he didn't want to break things off, but since Hermione had confessed her role in Buffy's abduction months ago, there had been a growing chasm between them, one that should never have been there in the first place. Had he not been the boy-who-lived and the boy-who-was-expected-to-kill-to-live, he would have taken the situation more lightly. He wanted first and foremost to protect her. He loved her, but to him, she was as close to him as a sister. Yet, despite everything they had been through, he still loved her.

It broke his heart to see her hurting. This cheerful façade just confused him. Why was she so happy to stand next to the woman about to leave them all? And why couldn't he tell her how he truly felt? He held back, knowing that if she knew, she would want to make this decision for herself. But he knew what he had to do. He wasn't going to get anyone else killed because of it. He'd learned that lesson from Sirius' death, and was strangely fortunate that the living Black daughter had come forward to help him return from behind the veil. The thing was, there was also Faith.

Faith was definitely getting to him. She'd gotten to him from the first time he'd laid eyes on her. And, according to many at Hogwarts who'd only caught glimpses of her, she was apparently rather appealing. She was also very close to Buffy as the two shared a destiny. They were even closer now that they both bore the same Dark Mark. They were as close as sisters as well.

This made Harry even more miserable. He loved Hermione and wanted to protect her. Yet, Faith gave him a great reason to just throw caution to the wind and go with his instincts. He didn't think he'd ever meet anyone new that would make his _everything_ tremble. She was a pure-blooded witch, too, something the Malfoys would even smile upon. And yet, she was one of the rare squibs, someone completely unable to do magic given their family history. It was quite hilarious because she was a powerful little spitfire out in the open as a Slayer but as a witch, she was almost nothing.

But to Buffy, she was almost everything. She was her equal, and as someone who was rather unique in this world, having an equal balanced everything out.

"Miss me?" a voice asked as Buffy dropped back into her chair, having wrestled her cup away from Sirius.

"Oh, yes, loads," Emma said sarcastically. "You were gone all of six minutes, you dope."

Buffy turned slightly pink as she practically inhaled her coffee. "You're not so smart without your wand now, are you?" she asked teasingly.

"Oh, whatever!" Emma exclaimed, setting up yet another mock-argument.

And yet, as Harry watched the time fly on, he didn't want this morning to end.

But the morning soon disappeared and soon the door opened for the fourth time that morning, this time admitting Percy Weasley. "I just called for a Ministry car. They should be along within a few minutes," he announced to Harry as he ran a hand through his curly red hair. He suddenly appeared to be nervous.

"Thanks for that," Harry said.

"No problem," Percy replied with his reassuring smile. "It was quite… worth…" His voice trailed off as he saw Buffy walking downstairs, both Oliver and Emma behind her. A large group of people were emerging from the basement dining room, all talking in moderated whispers about their latest move abroad to contact a foreign wizard.

Buffy had caught his eye and froze on the steps. Her eyes met Percy's and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

"Are these your bags then?" Oliver asked, stepping around her and bringing her attention back to the present, where three neat bags were lined in the hallway.

"Yeah," Buffy said, finally withdrawing her gaze. "Yeah… those are mine."

Her movements were jerky now, almost as though she were so excited to move and dreading it at the same time.

"Don't worry about those," Sirius said gruffly as he lifted one of her black suitcases. "Remus and I will take care of these."

"Oh… wow… thanks," Buffy said, stepping back as both men lifted the luggage and dragged it towards Percy and Harry. "Now that I feel completely useless…"

"It's okay," Emma said, rubbing Buffy's arm soothingly. "Just let them do something nice for you."

"I do things right for myself," Buffy said, an edge to her voice. "I don't like it when others to things for me."

"You'll get used to it someday," Emma said, looking at her friend as she finished walking downstairs. Harry and Percy made their way down the hall and met them at the foot of the stairs.

"Hello, Elizabeth," Percy said in a very serious voice.

"Hiya, Perce," Buffy said, giving him a fond little smile. Without waiting for a pause, she walked over and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She smiled slightly when she felt his own arms tighten around her smaller frame. They really didn't need to say anything anymore. He was her closest friend in England and leaving him behind was going to be hard enough.

Harry watched them, imagining this to be how he might say goodbye to Ron for an extended period of time. They wouldn't be able to say anything because all of the words had already been said. They would just shake hands and try to be civil about it.

When the pair finally split up, Harry saw Buffy's face. She wasn't crying nor was she close to it. Percy rested his head against hers for a moment, speaking softly before she looked up at him and, biting her lip, nodded. And then she pulled away.

She hugged Molly and Arthur, thanking them again for everything they'd done. She even hugged Ron and Ginny. When she got to Hermione, her resolve not to cry nearly destroyed her perfect control as she held onto the other girl. "Be safe," she whispered. "And don't stop believing in yourself."

"I won't," Hermione said softly. "And don't stop believing in you, either."

"I'll try," Buffy said dryly, wiping at her damp eyes before pulling away. Behind them, Remus announced that the cab had arrived.

Outside, it was still rather hot. Buffy found herself longing for the cool interior when the door closed behind her, the house shrinking into oblivion as she walked towards the bright yellow car waiting to take her straight to London Heathrow and away from this place she now considered to be her home.

Oliver stood by her side, her hand in his, comforting to no end. At the end of the walk, she turned to him and for a long moment he held her in his arms, not knowing quite what to say. When they pulled back, he blurted out, "Did you like the dress?"

She smiled at him. "I liked the dress."

"Are you certain about that?" Emma asked, coming up on the other side of Buffy and hugging her friend tightly. "I really wish that Katie could be here, too, but she can't be. So this is a hug from both of us."

"Thanks," Buffy said, watching as Sirius and Remus loaded her luggage into the trunk.

As soon as the trunk door closed, she felt as though the end had finally come. Her hands started to shake as her emotions caught up with her. They both walked over and hugged her briefly, although Sirius took an extra moment with her.

At last, it was just her and Harry.

"Don't," he said, taking a deliberate step away from her as she reached for him. "I don't want to hear anything sounding like a goodbye, remember?"

"Oh," she said, her arms dropping down to her sides. "Right."

"You're about three seconds from pure waterworks as it is," he commented dryly.

"Oh, shut up," she said, and despite his reservations, she threw her arms around him. She was rather pleased when he held her back. "I expect to see you alive in a few months."

"I was about to say the same thing," Harry commented into her shoulder.

"I'd better see you, or else I'll take on the big bad myself," she added, pulling away. "Be good now, Harry."

For a moment, they just stood there before Buffy pulled back, running a nervous hand through her hair. "I guess… I'll be seeing you."

She got into the cab then and closed the door, refusing to even look behind her as the house and its occupants vanished as they drove away. She couldn't look back.

It was time to move on.

"I was asked to give you something," the cab driver said, glancing at her resolute face in the rear-view mirror. He nodded to the box sitting on the seat next to her. "That's for you, Miss."

Buffy leaned over and gently untied the bright red ribbon. Pulling off the shiny gold box top, she grinned when she saw the contents inside. No matter how far away there were, Fred and George Weasley could still make their names well known. They hadn't forgotten her after all, but in their usual style had made this trip all the more worth it.

"Thanks," she told the cab-driver. She wasn't certain whether or not he was a Muggle or a Wizard, so she hid the contents from him, looking at the vast range of sweets and reading materials packed haphazardly within. Tucked within the bottom folds of cardboard, she found a note.

She read it, occasionally laughing, but as she set it back inside the box and replaced the top, she was fighting hard to hold in her tears.

Oh, she was going to miss those twins.

- - - - -

Harry closed the door softly behind him after bidding the others good night. Walking over to his bed, he cast a surly glance at Ron's empty bed before changing into his pajamas and getting into bed.

All throughout the house, the others were moving on despite the fact that one of their ranks had left them. Emma had left almost immediately afterwards, Apparating back to her mother's workplace. Percy had returned to work.

Everyone was trying to act as normally as they could.

Harry had found that it was even harder.

Mrs. Weasley had announced that they were going to Diagon Alley in the morning to get their books. For the first time, he and Ron glanced at their book lists. What they saw made Ron groan.

"For years and years she's talked about this book and now they actually _expect_ us to read it?" Ron glowered, glaring at the book list. "I mean, it's _Hogwarts, A History_!"

"I wonder what class it is for," Harry replied, frowning as he glanced at his class list. "I mean, I don't have History of Magic anymore and neither do you."

"Maybe it's light, extracurricular reading," Ron had suggested.

There was a knock on the door and Ron called, "Its open!" as Ginny entered, looking rather excited.

"I just found something out," she said, her voice full of hushed anticipation. "Hermione made Head Girl!"

That explained why she was so smiley and glow-y, Harry realized, scowling. She'd made Head Girl, just like his mother. But as he examined the contents of his booklist, he realized there was another package just waiting to be opened. When Ginny saw it, her smile doubled.

"It's just fate," she said dramatically, giggling and sweeping out.

Harry just scowled at the Head Boy badge in his hands. "Why did it have to be me for? I'm not my parents!"

"Take it, mate!" Ron said enthusiastically. "I mean, you only spent the past seven years earning it!"

Maybe, just maybe, he had.

That night a party was held to celebrate the fact that Harry and Hermione had made Head Boy and Head Girl. As the others spread about talking about the wonders of Hogwarts in the last year, Harry felt hollow inside. His sister wasn't here to share in this joy. She wasn't going to know he had made Head Boy, just like their father.

After dinner though, he'd gone straight to bed. Lying on top of the covers of the newly-redesigned room by Faith, he glanced at the small red twinkle lights along the ceiling. It was too warm to light a fire, but the twinkle lights filled the room with a soft, reddish glow that made it seem even warmer. It was a beautiful room and Harry was glad he was able to stay here.

He fell asleep, his dreams melting away.

He was walking through a narrow hallway. There was a light at the end and he found himself walking outside into a cemetery. There were two figures standing there and when they turned to him, he was astonished to see that they were his parents.

"Harry, come and see," Lily Potter said, lifting her arm to beckon Harry forward.

He walked forward and stepped underneath her protective arm, finally getting a chance to see what he was looking at.

When he saw it, he gasped.

It was a headstone, reading Elizabeth Anne Potter.

"What happened to her?" he managed to gasp.

"She died," James Potter said tragically. "She died to save the world, again."

"She needs to stop doing that," Lily said in a tired tone. "It's getting quite frustrating to see our daughter in Heaven so many times."

"So many… what are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"She died to save you, Harry, before the end came," James explained.

"Didn't you know?" a cool female voice asked as Faith joined them. James and Lily both turned to smile at her. "The enemy was too strong for her to withstand his advances. She came back onto to be abducted into his circle of power. And when the time came to kill you or not, she killed herself instead. She was tortured into insanity, lost to an unknown ailment lost in her mind. When the end came, we were forced to go against her."

"That wouldn't happen to her," Harry said forcefully. "She's a good sister. She's a good person."

"Good people don't go around getting the Dark Mark imprinted on their arms, do they?" James asked cheerfully. "Well, that's it. We're done here."

"No, we're bloody not!" Harry said, stepping away from his mother's somewhat strangling grasp. "How could you be so nonchalant about this? She was your daughter, for Merlin's sake!"

"She brought this on herself," Lily said in a tragic voice, despite the fact she was smiling. "Come on, James."

Then, she paused, to turn back to her son. "Are you coming?"

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, confused.

"To Heaven, silly," James replied, leaning over to ruffle Harry's head. "Your sister was banished to a fulfilling life on that hellish plane on Earth and you're now here with us… forever."

"I'm… dead?" Harry echoed.

Faith walked over to him. "Don't be so disappointed," she said soothingly, slipping her arm through his. "I'm not."

"It's just that… how did I die? When did I die? Is Voldemort dead? Is—" His voice was cut off as Faith pressed her hand to his mouth.

"No more questions," she purred, staring to pull him along after his parents. "This is the world we made, Harry. This is how the world ended up. It isn't anyone's fault. It was fate, with maybe a bit of destiny thrown in."

"Did she… did she get her happily ever after?" Harry asked hesitantly.

He saw Faith hesitate. "Some happily ever after," she grumbled. "How many people did she have to lose in the final fight to get to you? Her last thoughts were of you…"

"I thought you said we were in Heaven," Harry said, feeling lost.

"We are," Faith replied, and as she spoke, her voice became misty. "She's not."

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was gazing at the dark ceiling above his head at Grimmauld Place.

- - - - -

Buffy sat up quickly, trying not to gasp. She'd been sleeping for the past few hours, curled contentedly in her seat on the flight from Amsterdam to Sofia. She would then take a Ministry-provided vehicle to their base in Sofia, get her orders, and later meet with her new team in Nesebur.

She blinked as the dream came back to her. Every single dream was getting stranger.

But this was the first time she had ever dreamt about her parents.

Before she realized it, her vision was blurred.

They had come to her to try and give her advice, but never to speak so calmly about what would happen once this war was over. Buffy had proven her loyalty to the magical world and that meant she was no Death Eater. But what if Voldemort saw her as a defection, someone who had been asking to be in the inner circle but had spied instead? It brought her comfort to know that in Bulgaria, she couldn't hurt anyone.

That didn't mean the dreams would hurt any less.

- - - - -

It was a warm and windy night in Sunnydale. It had been a rather boring evening, Faith decided as she kicked an empty pop can back and forth over the pavement.

It had been a typical week in the land of Sunnydale Faith thought with a snort. It had been a full moon weekend, so that had been a busy few nights. Coupled with the extra vampires hanging around for the end-of-the-summer parties they were so fond of made her life a little more interesting. The only thing that could be potentially considered interesting was the dream she'd had the day before. Creepy thought it had been, it really stopped to make her think about the future. In that future, she'd been dead. And she'd been with Harry, which suggested, among other things, that they'd died together. It was probably because Hermione had caught them and killed them both, she thought snidely.

What she wouldn't give to just test this theory out right now. It was far too dead around here, she thought gloomily. It was just getting worse.

Saturday night was as boring as it could possibly be. She would even give a lot of money to see Spike right now. She could take him on, goad him a little and make him sweat it out while she blew off some steam. She had other ideas floating through her head, but the idea of taking any one of them on made her blush.

She would start laughing then. Since when did Faith Landing, the coldest human being on earth, develop such feelings? Since she'd met that brother of hers, she decided wryly, giving the can a good kick in the opposite direction. It was nearing ten o'clock, and she'd already been out since just before dinnertime. It would probably be best to just pack it in, give a quick report to Giles, and go on her merry way. Joyce should be home from work by now. They could grab a cup of hot chocolate and gab for a while before turning in. It would be like every other night this past summer before the end of summer rush.

It was then she noticed someone was staring at her. Her eyes narrowed as her hand slid into her waistband, unearthing her stake. She spun around, her stake flashing through the air just as a figure collided with her, sending both of them tumbling to the pavement.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" they both yelled. Leaping to her feet, Faith retrieved her stake and glared at Spike, who was getting slowly to his feet, his hand clutching his head.

"I'm doing my job," Faith replied smugly.

"And you need someone to watch your back," Spike retorted.

"I don't need anyone and I sure as hell don't need you," Faith snapped, gesturing with her stake. "So get that through your thick skull before I decide to get hostile."

Spike just regarded her and it took her a moment to realize that he'd run into her for a reason.

"This isn't about boredom, isn't it?" she asked darkly.

"No, love, certainly not," Spike sighed, crossing his arms over his leather overcoat. "It seems as though the demon underworld has been aware of a presence hunting out the one Slayer left. The curious thing is that they were asking for one Delita Black."

Faith's eyes widened. "What do they know, Spike?" She was walking again, moving towards Giles' as fast as she could. "What did they tell them? Who were they?" There were very few people who knew who Delita Black was… and she knew that a large majority of them were evil.

"They were men that claimed to be looking for one of their own," Spike said. "There were two groups, both with those long cloaks."

"What were they told?" Faith asked, her voice rising along with her temper.

"What's this all about?" Spike asked, frustration clearly sounding in his voice. "Is this another game, pet? Because I don't like it when you come play beat-the-Spike for information and—" His voice was cut off as Faith seized him by his lapels and physically lifted him from the ground. There was such fire in her eyes that he felt his hands tremble. As much as he longed to throw her off, he held his tongue until she released him.

"What do they know?" she asked in a calmer tone.

"They know that you're here," he said, taking a step away from her. "They know who you work with… and they'll be coming for you."

Faith bit back a feeling of panic as she glanced around the street, trying to get a bearing on why her senses were suddenly on overdrive. "This can't be happening," she muttered, finally turning back to look at the vampire.

"They said they would go after the brains," Spike replied, enjoying the fact that his information was riling up the Slayer who sought out to make his life a living hell.

"But Willow's in London," Faith replied, still turning in a tight circle, her hands moving to push her hair off her sweaty face. "That would lead them right to Giles." She froze suddenly and without warning, took off running down the street.

"Faith, wait!" Spike shouted, tailing after her.

If they had come for her at last, that meant that the war had started. She ran quickly towards the complex where Giles lived, only stopping when she saw how pleasantly serene the entire building was. There was a family on the deck celebrating the birthday of a small child. Even from this distance, she could see the child in the arms of a man leaning over to blow out the candles. On the other side, in the apartment above Giles', she saw a figure watering plants, dead petals floating like pink snow on the sidewalk below. In the grass to her left, two teenage boys were walking a pair of teacup Chihuahuas. Pushing past the boys, she raced down to the bottom level and glanced at the door.

It was just slightly open.

She heard Spike coming down the stairs behind her as she crept forward. The only weapon she had on her was the stake. She wasn't even carrying the cellular telephone Cordelia had practically shoved in her hand.

Her hand was shaking as it reached towards the door.

"Giles?" she called softly, nudging the door open. "Giles?"

The door opened to reveal his entryway and living room. Instantly, her senses alerted her that something was terribly wrong.

"Spike," she said, beckoning him forward. But his eyes were on the spot right above the door, and his eyes were widening with sudden realization.

"Get down!" he shouted, turning away.

The next few seconds passed as though they were in slow motion. Faith glanced up to see a small black box and a green light that had just gone to red…

She had just turned her heel when the bomb exploded behind her.

The entire outer wall burst outwards, sending Faith and Spike towards the fountain as the balconies above collapsed under the weight of the structure as it disappeared beneath the ignited foundation.

The first explosion set off a greater one as the entire building burst into flames, thick black smoke hurling into the sky.

When the debris stopped falling, there was nothing but an eerie silence before the wail of a siren broke the night.

- - - - -

Chapter 5… Was Faith attacked by the good guys or the bad guys, and was she targeted at all? Wesley has a premonition and Buffy meets her new team. On top of that, the Hogwart's Express rides for the last time…

Chapter 6… Harry gets a dark surprise. Willow's new house-mate is anti-magic. Draco starts his latest plot…

- - - - -

**Chapter Notes**

This chapter took forever to write, literally a month. It isn't that I didn't know what I wanted to happen because I did. I just had to focus on getting the point across the best way I could. The first bit written was the Faith and Spike bit, too.

Happy New Year! I know I basically disappeared because my stress levels were going far too high… but hopefully now I can stick this out. Two jobs and hockey season has started. I'm still aiming for 25 to 30 chapters. I know how I want to end it, and I'm aiming for it. I know I have outstanding gifts, and they will be done in time. Please be patient with me… I hadn't looked at this story for about three weeks before I decided I wanted to actually finish a chapter. I'm such a bad writer, sometimes.

I do hope you all had a fantastic holiday season!

**Reviewer Comments**

Thank you very much for all of your comments and reviews!

**Anita Blake/Buffy Fan:** Thank you muchly!

**The Lady Morgaine: **I could just completely let my thoughts go and tell you who Harry ends up with, but I won't. It's a really hard choice, considering both women are incredible women. It's such a dirty shame that there's the possibility that _neither_ will make it…

**Sparky24:** Harry broke up with Hermione to protect her. This chapter deals with more of that aftermath. Hermione thinks that Harry's got a thing for someone else, which is the reason why it happened. Two separate reasons, and two very confused teenagers going through normal teenage angst. I can't say whether or not it'll be permanent, because they'll definitely have their moments, but, alas… I'll shut up now.

**CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: **I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little while for a Buffy/Oliver reunion. She's about to leave England for awhile, and he's off to play Quidditch. But absence makes the heart grow fonder and one way or another, they will be reunited. It's like the video playing in my head. One of my writing friends wrote a rather racy fiction with Buffy in it for another fiction series the Guild I belong to is working on… and damn, did it make me blush. I think I need to read more racy. But it's definitely a promise that you'll have it!

**Goddessa39:** I shall email you email addresses if you wish. I won't put them here because chances are, they'll get fudged. Buffy/Oliver was a challenge from Grace who happens to like Oliver, and she figured they'd be cute together. They'll have an ending, but I can't really say it's very happy right now. I have much more plotting to do, and yet… I know how I want it to end, and they will have a semi-happy ending. Hermione is going to end up with someone… right? Maybe… It's really Harry's decision, because he's once again torn. But that's just our Harry. And Ginny is going to end up with… yeah, if you couldn't figure it out from this chapter, she and Dean aren't together anymore. Which leaves Harry… or… Yeah. She'll end up with someone, and it isn't going to be Draco. Speaking of Buffy/Angel, I posted my latest fiction, which I think you partially inspired. Not so much with Buffy as it is with Angel and their daughter, but that's just my opinion.

**DarkAngelMali:** You lucky little duckling! I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, and I hope you're not too shadow-frightened anymore! I remember being like that after I saw this one Twilight Zone… scary.

**Electric pancake:** You pretty much got the fact I'm not British, didn't you? Hell, there's no English in my ancestry… it's all eastern European. I'll go back and fix it when I do have the time. And, if I can remember correctly, I did read your story before my time decided to collapse on me. Thank you for your well-balanced review!

**Internal-Dragon:** Oh, I've always been a nerd… it's somewhat of a pride point. As for Harry/Faith, it's certainly in the realm of a possibility, isn't it? I mean...

I _am_ going to try and update this again this week, but I make no promises. I'm about half done with a Dance update, too. Not to mention I'm inviting you all over to _Forget Not This_, which I have posted concurrently with this, and is the novel-sized sequel to _When the Time Has Passed._ I've got quite a few new projects coming, too, including an original works which has been forever in my mind and is just _dying_ to get out.

Thank you for being such wonderful readers, reviewers, etc! You are all totally awesome! I also hope you're enjoying your New Year!

**Edited to repair both a date and future spoilers.**


	5. We Live the Lives We Choose

**Chapter 5**

**We Live the Lives We Choose**

- - - - -

A bolt of lightning flashed overhead and the distant sound of rain was the only sound on the quiet first night in Bulgaria.

Buffy crept along the dark path, glancing left and right. She wasn't feeling too concerned, not yet. All she knew was that as she sat in her new, depressing room in the large house she supposedly shared with the rest of her team, her Slayer's radar was picking things up. They weren't just the warm, friendly things either.

Pulling out her stake, she held it by her side as she veered off the path, heading into the woods. Thunder boomed above her as the rain began to unleash, soaking through her plastic poncho. The wind started to pick up, blowing through the treetops with a slight whistle.

But there was an unnatural sound straight ahead. Holding her stake to her side, she peered intently towards the moving clump of bushes ahead. It was now or never.

She leapt into the bushes just as a snarling figure leapt out. She quickly kicked him and spinning, the vampire landed hard on the ground before snapping back to his feet. When he got a good look at the woman who was attacking him, his eyes widened. "Slayer," he hissed under his breath.

"That's right," Buffy said cheerfully, glad that one person, even if he was undead, could speak English in this country. The vampire let out an unholy snarl and swung for her head. She dodged it, spinning around, her feet slipping slightly in the mud from the heavy rain now blinding the night before her. When she returned back to a standing position, she held up her stake. The vampire swung again and this time he connected, sending the Slayer reeling backwards onto the muddy path.

Getting back to her feet, she kicked out, connecting with the vampire's chest as he, too, landed on the path. They continued their dance, sparring and darting until she finally kicked him against the sharp, outstretched branch of a tree. As he collapsed into dust, she tucked her stake back inside her coat and glanced at the rain still pouring down on her. For some reason, it was almost comforting to know that vampires in this forest were as stupid as the ones back in Sunnydale.

And, for once, it was nice to be recognized as the Slayer and not as the older sister to the boy-who-lived and the girl marked by the Death Eaters.

She shook off the bent-up tension in her neck and shoulders as she continued walking down the path, the storm continuing its rage around her.

The house was still empty when she returned to her tiny, undecorated room. A small single mattress lay on the floor with only a few moth-eaten blankets piled onto it. A horrible striped pillow sat on top of the pile along with the few pieces of mail that had accumulated since she'd arrived. A light bulb was hanging precariously above her head as she took off her muddy shoes and stripped down to her regular clothes, nearly tripping over her luggage in the dim room. One way or another, she was going to decorate this cold, hostile room. The only thing of use were the books sitting on a plastic crate along with a dented alarm clock, one that was battery powered and not plugged in, she had noticed. There was a Bulgarian-English dictionary, not to mention a small black leather-bound book on Japanese terms. She had no use for either, but at least she would have some way to entertain herself.

She had been expecting a television set or a radio at the very least. She wasn't expecting a complete load of nothing. She had neglected to bring any books or magazines of her own and that left both books to her disposal.

She pulled her wand from her jeans and set it on the plastic crate as she settled down on the mattress, glancing at the shadows on the wall. The walls were paneled with wood that was rotting through in spots. She vowed to buy posters or wallpaper or something to cover it up. Along with the boring walls, there were no windows. All she could hear was the sound of the rain lashing against the heavy oak door separating her from the storm outside.

She'd had to leave her owl back in England, she thought with a scowl. Poor Onyx, she thought. Onyx was currently living with the Wood family, something she really didn't mind, but the poor owl would probably have nothing to do for months while Buffy was stranded in her own version of hell.

She lifted the dictionary and stared at the worn leather cover. Sighing, she opened to the front page and began to read the babble written in a language she didn't understand. Of course, she thought to herself miserably, she could always read her mail. But she knew she had to know some words of this language before her first meeting tomorrow.

One of the things she had learned upon her arrival in this country was that she was going to work on a team. An actual vampire-hunting team. She was living in a tiny room in a house with a lot of little tiny rooms for the other members on her team.

Shoving the dictionary aside, she picked up both letters, reading her welcome letter for the tenth or twelfth time. It was written in English with heavy block letters. She had already memorized it, but the words basically let her know that every single comfort she had known for the past nineteen years were now gone and she was going to live the remote life of a vampire hunter. The second letter was a letter telling her that her team would be waiting to meet her in the morning after they moved into the house.

She was about to reach for the dictionary when she heard a creak in the floor above her. A few bits of dust filtered down onto the concrete floor as Buffy glanced up, frowning. If her team wasn't arriving until tomorrow, who was here tonight? Rising, she moved to the door, reaching for her poncho hanging from a single nail sticking out of the wall at an odd angle. It was the perfect coat rack, she thought sarcastically as she bundled up before pulling on her shoes and heading back out into the stormy night.

It was very windy as she climbed the stairs on the side of the house, finally taking refuge under the large stone awning above her head. Pulling down her hood, she stared out into the darkness of the remote city in the distance. A bolt of lightning flashed over the city, and forks flashed out over the house before the thunder crashed and the rain began falling even harder. Sighing, she walked along the balcony, finally reaching the main door to the house. Unlocking it using her set of keys, she stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed was the wet footprints heading towards the kitchen.

She crept along the floor, attempting to not make a sound. She pulled the stake from her pocket, ready to use it on the first sign of trouble. She noticed the light moving on the opposite wall leading into the kitchen and knew that someone had lit a candle. It was likely not a vampire, who wouldn't bother to turn on the lights when breaking into the house. Then again, there was no sign of a forced entry, meaning that whoever was here was likely someone who either had a set of keys or knew how to pick a rather crappy lock flawlessly.

She turned the corner and saw a figure standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a bowl. She could hear the faint sound of music and slid back around the corner, breathing hard. Whoever was in the kitchen was human. She spun around again and asked in a loud voice, "What are you doing?"

The figure standing at the counter gasped and turned around. Buffy let out her own gasp as the figure's face loomed over the candle light, setting off eerie shadows.

"Giles?" she whispered in disbelief. "Giles, is it really you?"

He attempted to clear his throat, but what he saw instead was the astonished face staring back at him. "Buffy, how… I didn't expect you to be awake…"

"Oh," she said, swallowing as she moved towards him. "So you weren't going to tell me you were staying at my house in Bulgaria for any reason, right?"

"I was asked to come over," Giles replied, turning back and taking up his bowl and stirring it once again. "I wasn't supposed to tell you I was coming."

"Was that some sort of punishment?" she asked, still not believing the man standing before her was really there. "Giles, what are you doing here?"

Giles glanced at her over the flickering candlelight. "I'm part of your team, so… surprise, I guess."

For a moment, she couldn't say anything. Then she moved around the counter and launched herself into her former Watcher's arms. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she said into his chest as his arms hesitantly closed around her.

"I wouldn't imagine being anywhere else at a time like this," he replied, patting her back as she pulled away, looking quite relieved.

"Thank you," she said, giving him her first genuine smile.

He gave her a reluctant half-smile before returning to his bowl.

"What are you making?" she asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Uh, bread actually," he replied, setting the bowl down and pulling the candle closer.

"It looks kind of liquid to be all light and fluffy," she commented, pulling herself up onto the counter and staring at him as he poured the mixture into a bread pan. "I'm glad you're here."

He glanced at her as he put the bowl aside and bowed his head slightly. "As am I," he said sincerely. "I have no doubt in my mind that you do not know how to use a brick oven."

"I miss technology," she said sadly.

"Do you have your wand?" he asked as he took the bowl to a basin and began rinsing it out.

"It's downstairs," she replied blithely. "Besides, I'm on contract to not use my wand unless absolutely necessary."

He glanced at her as he pulled away from the sink. "It would be nice to have some sort of warmth in this house. I suppose we can always search for matches."

"It is kind of cold and unwelcome in here," Buffy agreed as she glanced at the large, empty kitchen. "I wonder how the others will like it. I feel like I'm in a castle or something equally creepy."

"This house would resemble a castle," Giles replied as he pulled out a few more candles from one of the drawers and used the lit candle to light the others. "There is a fireplace over there," he said, taking a long wooden stick and lighting it ablaze. "See what you can do with this."

Buffy took the stick from him and hopped down, walking over to the large fireplace in the equally unwelcome dining room. A long wooden table sat covered in a quarter inch of dust, while the eight chairs evenly paced were dripping with cobwebs. She bent down, holding her flaming torch as she prodded the old, moldy logs under the heavy metallic grate, wishing for the fire to start without much effort. After a few moments, the fire was lit and warmth started to pour into the cold room.

Giles joined her a few moments later, glancing at the dusty table as he set down his candle. He used a towel he'd brought with him to dust off a corner of the table and then brushed off one of the chairs before sitting down. "I imagine we have a lot to talk about," he began.

She turned around to face him before sticking the entire torch inside the fire. Joining him at the table, she glanced upwards at the two large lights hanging over the table, covered in a thick layer of dust. "I guess we do."

"Do you want to start or shall I?" he asked, moving the candle to rest in between them. The warm light from the fire was rather welcome considering they could still see their breath in front of them. For being so warm out, it was so cold inside this house. Lightning flashed behind the thick burgundy curtains sealing them safely inside the large house.

"I want to know how you ever thought to come here," she said, turning back to him.

"I was approached by a group of British Aurors, actually," Giles began. "They came to me about a week ago, and asked if I would be willing to join my former Slayer in Bulgaria. They gave me an offer that I could not refuse, but the problem was they didn't come to Sunnydale alone."

"Death Eaters," Buffy whispered as she realized that they, too, would be looking for Faith or Giles.

Giles nodded. "It was my idea to divert their attention, to make it look as though I were, well, dead. It happened two days ago, now."

Buffy checked her watch and smiled. "You're right," she replied. "It's Monday now. Harry would've gone back to Hogwarts for the last time yesterday." Her face wore a sad expression as she turned to her former Watcher. "I'm sorry… you were saying?"

"It was a lot to handle when they told me what I would be doing," Giles continued, "but the point of the distraction was so that no one would be able to find me…"

- - - - -

Smoke was still curling towards the sky on the quiet Saturday evening in Sunnydale. There was a wail as a second ambulance left the scene, speeding towards the hospital. A third vehicle was parked behind the second and two figures were sitting side-by-side out of the backside. Faith was resting her head on the edge of the door as an attendant gently wrapped her arm in a splint.

Spike was sitting next to her, staring in concern at the remains of the building where Giles had lived. Next to him, Faith looked both angry and scared. The first thing he remembered after the explosion was the sound of people screaming and crying as the building collapsed, the bottom apartment gone. He had crawled over to Faith, who moaned and finally looked up, cradling her arm.

"Are you all right?" he asked as she sat up, running a shaky hand through her hair.

"Oh, my…" she said instead, her eyes scanning the building behind him. "Giles…"

"We'll find him later, pet," he said, dragging her to her feet. "Right now, you need medical attention unless you want me to lick the blood off of you."

Apparently that thought brought her back to the present and she allowed herself to be dragged off. That had been nearly an hour ago. Men and women were searching the bottom apartments for survivors, and it didn't help that every single body was brought to the coroner's car on a stretcher. Faith would tense at every single covered sheet as the face was revealed before sinking with relief when she saw it wasn't the Watcher.

"It is possible he wasn't home," Spike said as soon as the attendant pronounced them fit to leave and they both walked away from the ambulance.

"Yeah," Faith grumbled under her breath, "just like it's possible that… wait a moment…" Her eyes were scanning a small group of figures standing down the street. Her own Slayer-like radar was picking up a strange magical vibe. "Spike…" she said slowly. "Those guys over there… were they the ones you saw?"

Spike followed her gaze and shook his head. "Those aren't the same ones that I spoke to, no."

Faith made a quick decision and decided to act on her instinct. Pulling out her stake, she stormed over to where the group was standing and grabbed the first arm she could reach before placing the stake to their chest. "What do you know?" she demanded as the others quickly pulled out their wands, out of sight of any Muggles watching. The smoke was creating a hazy mist, also blocking them from view.

"Faith, you can't go around bloody attacking everyone that…" Spike's voice cut off when he saw five wands aimed at him.

"Leave him out of this," Faith said coldly. "This is between you and me and right now, I'm not feeling too talkative." She lifted her fist and aimed it towards the head of the man she was holding onto.

"Faith, wait!" a voice cried out as a sixth figure stepped between two others. She was a tall woman with blonde hair neatly braided out of her eyes. She had her wand in her hand, but it was held down to her side. "Don't hurt him… he can't do anything to you."

Faith stared open-mouthed at Katie Bell. "What the hell is this?" she asked, letting go of the arm she'd been holding onto and taking a step back. Spike joined her, looking surprisingly smug.

"They're Aurors," Katie explained, quickly introducing the group of men and the one other woman amongst them. "I came with them because I've never been to this country before and because I'm worried about Buffy."

"You know Buffy?" Spike asked her and she turned her cool blue gaze to meet his.

"Yeah, I know her," Katie said. "She's a friend."

"You're from that witch school in England, eh?" Spike asked interestedly.

"That's right," Katie replied with a small smile as she turned back to Faith.

"What are you doing here?" Faith asked, her tone hostile.

"We came for Rupert Giles," one of the male Aurors replied. "He was once a Watcher, wasn't he? We wished for him to be employed in that profession once again."

"You're sending him to Europe," Faith said softly.

"That's right," the female Auror, Hestia Jones, replied coolly. "Unfortunately, we did not come alone." Her eyes were shrewd as she eyed Faith. "Do you not also carry the Mark?"

Faith's right hand unconsciously grasped her left arm and she nodded. "I haven't seen them, no," she said, her tone hard. "I was just…"

"This was his idea," the male Auror said. "He wanted it to look like he'd been targeted by a supernatural force. He wanted it to look like it was murder."

"He wanted to disappear," Faith realized. "It makes sense, I guess. You want him to go to B, and I can't blame you for that. But why didn't you tell me what you had planned? I'm not evil. I'm not going to go around and hurt anyone. Isn't that the reason why I came back here?"

"Faith," Katie said, her tone pleading as she held up her hand, but Faith charged on.

"It's so obvious you don't trust me," Faith snapped. "Are you worried that you'll lose control of the other Slayer? Or am I just not that important to you?"

It was obvious from this statement that all of them, with the exception of Katie and Hestia, didn't know what a Slayer was.

"You are being targeted as it is, Faith," Hestia said, her eyes on the other woman, her gaze still calculating. "To let you in on what we had planned could have proven disastrous. You were not on the need to know—"

"This is madness!" Faith cried, her voice rising above the others. "If you keep pushing me away, you're going to lose the one ally you have in this country. You probably have all these friends lined up, but I have something you need and right now, I'm willing to bet that if you hadn't shown up tonight, I would believe that my Watcher is _dead_."

It was clear that she was right from the looks on their faces. Faith cursed under her breath, turned on her heel and sped away through the smoke and haze.

Spike turned a cold eye to Hestia, his tone low and menacing. "You made a mistake coming over here and not trusting her," he said coolly. "If you come back again, I'll kill you myself. That's a promise."

Katie watched as Spike sauntered after Faith before turning to the others. "I told you it was a mistake coming back here."

"We had to make certain that he hadn't returned," the male Auror said dryly.

"His flight left last night," Hestia replied as she checked her own watch before pocketing her wand. "We're done here. It's time to go."

Katie glanced back at Faith's frame before her eyes scanned at the city around her. For all Buffy had talked of it, it certainly was a pretty little town.

A few hundred feet ahead, Faith had broken into a run. Spike caught up with her, only to find Faith standing in the middle of the street, looking as though something terrible had happened.

"Don't let them rile you," Spike said. "They're just a group of nasty gits."

"They may be gits," Faith replied, blinking hard, "but they're right. How can they trust me?"

"Hey," Spike said, patting her shoulder in what he hoped to be a comforting manner. "If I can't trust you, who can? You've saved this town enough bloody times… if they want to play 'we-got-a-secret', more power to them." He snickered as a last thought crossed his mind. "If you want to kick my ass, you might feel better."

Faith gave him a half-smile. "Maybe some other time."

He watched as she took off again, presumably towards the Summers' house. He watched her go before turning back. In the distance, he could still see smoke curling from the fire. Whatever those bastards had done, it had still cost lives. It may have not been their intention, but it was what had come to be.

- - - - -

"That's an interesting story," Buffy replied after listening for the past twenty minutes as Giles told her about his plans to leave Sunnydale with the intention of appearing as though he had died in an explosion. She watched him intently through the fire of the flickering flame. Her back was warm from the fire burning six or seven feet behind her. Outside, the storm began to wane.

"I was sincerely hoping that no one would have been killed in the explosion, as they promised me they wouldn't be," Giles replied, removing his glasses to polish them. Buffy had been very still during the conversation, only nodding or smiling. She didn't interrupt him once. This was a sign that she had indeed grown up and after everything she had gone through the year before, she really had. "What about you?"

"Oh," Buffy said lightly, recalling her experiences for the past week. "It's been… wild."

She began telling him about everything, from Willow and Harry's attack to the gathering of the Order. He listened quietly until she stopped talking. "I guess it isn't as exciting as planning your own death," she concluded, resting back in her chair. As she moved, her stomach growled. Giles gave her a tight smile before glancing at the dusty table.

"Perhaps we could spend some time tidying this house," he said.

"It would be a good idea," Buffy replied with a yawn. "I wish they had food here, though. I was so spoiled at Hogwarts."

"We should have fresh baked bread in the morning if everything goes according to plan," Giles told her as they both rose and stretched. "I could use some rest as well."

Buffy thought about returning to her cold basement suite and shuddered. It wasn't as though this part of the house was much better. She'd done a quick walkthrough when she'd arrived earlier that afternoon. There were five main rooms; two were bathrooms, one large sitting room, a kitchen and a dining area. There were seven bedrooms with three other private baths, and a large spacious basement loaded with both contemporary and old-fashioned weaponry. She'd spent a fair amount of time in the training room looking over everything before deciding to go for a walk. She was glad she had. She'd managed to dust her first vampire abroad.

She was tired now, not to mention hungry. There was no food in the house. She hoped someone would think to bring some. At least Giles had been prepared with his powder-in-a-bag routine. She would have to check through his supplies in the morning. And, sadly enough, he'd had a book of matches with just two little sticks remaining. So much for having a prepared Watcher, she thought.

"Are you going to sleep now?" Giles asked her as he walked towards the main sitting room, which was wide open and had archways for doorways. His things were neatly piled on one of the sheet-covered couches. She watched him for a moment as he pulled out a small leather case before smiling. In the distance, a flicker of lightning flashed in the enormous windows facing the river beyond the woods. It really was a pretty house, even if it had been closed up forever, she decided.

"Yeah," she replied, turning around. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep on that cold mattress, but she was tired enough now to sleep on the concrete floor. Bidding him good night, she walked back to the main entrance, pulling on her poncho again.

It was warm and very muggy outside. The wind had also picked up, throwing droplets of water into the air. It took her only a few minutes to get back inside and change into something more comfortable for sleeping in. Lifting her wand, she gazed around the small square room. A tiny addition was added with a cracked porcelain toilet and a shower that seemed to be just a spigot hanging from the ceiling.

For now, she would just have to make due.

She turned on her flashlight and rose to snap off the main light, the bulb above her head crackling. She sat on her dark mattress and reached over to pick up the dictionary on the floor, adding it back to its pile on the crate. She spent a few minutes attempting to set the alarm clock only to realize the batteries were dead. She set it aside before turning off the flashlight and lying down beneath the cold blankets in a room that seemed to have been closed off forever. Despite the fact she was living in one of the worst places she could imagine, she fell right asleep.

She was walking through the graveyard. There were the sounds of fighting off in the distance, the familiar chink of metal meeting metal. She pulled out her own sword as she sped between the gravestones only to hear a loud voice say, "We have come to it at last, Potter."

Buffy's eyes followed the sound of the voice. There were two men. One was very tall with red eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. The other was shorter and had wild dark hair. Their wands were out and their jinxes were coming so fast that small blips of light were all she could see. She began running towards them, but they seemed to be getting farther away.

"No!" she heard Harry shout. "You can't leave me!"

"I'm trying!" Buffy screamed, pushing her way through the thick air that seemed to rest between her and her brother. "Harry! Harry!"

A great red light filled the air, surrounding the smaller man and lifting him straight off the ground.

"NO!" she cried, breaking through the darkness and finally reaching the place where her brother had finally fallen, the life driven right from him. "NO! God, no!"

"Did you love him?" a cold female voice asked.

Buffy lifted her stunned face to look into the eyes of a murderer. "You're dead," she whispered.

"And you shall join him," the voice replied as a wand came from nowhere, pointed directly into the center of her forehead. "Do you not know? All Potters have a death wish."

"I thought that was just for Slayers," Buffy retorted, still holding Harry to her, desperate for any sign of life within him.

"Your brother is dead, Potter. The war is over," the female replied. "You lost."

But she had no idea the rage she had just set off. Dropping Harry's figure onto the ground, Buffy came to, her eyes flashing with anger. "You… you bitch!" she screamed, swinging hard and connecting with the side of the woman's head, sending her reeling. "Why…" She kicked out, the tip of her boot catching the woman's shoulder as she was already falling down. "… won't…" She was on the Death Eater in seconds, pummeling every inch of skin she could see with cold, brutal blows. "… you…" She took the woman by her long raven hair now, smashing the back of her head onto the nearest gravestone. "… die?" She raised her hand for the final blow when a figure caught her fist, holding it tightly despite her persistence.

She turned around and nearly screamed as she saw her father standing above her. "She's down, Elizabeth."

"About time, too," Sirius said, walking over, wearing a long dark cloak. Both James and Sirius glanced sadly at Harry for a moment. "Well, I always knew his time had passed."

"Now all of us are truly dead," James replied sadly.

Buffy angrily pushed James away. "You're not my father," she said quietly. "You would never be so callous. You could never just turn away from your son!"

"Maybe I did," James said with a cold smile. "Maybe you do not even know me…"

"Maybe I don't want to," Buffy snapped, getting to her feet, kicking the limp body she had been beating aside. "Isn't this your cousin, Sirius? You know, the one that tried to kill you?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, staring at her figure. "It's really too bad, too. She was such a waste."

"Harry," Buffy gasped, pushing past both men, but they both latched onto her.

"It's too late," James said, trying in vain to pull her backwards, but she drove right through them, diving towards her brother's body when it suddenly burst into flames. A deep, unearthly tone from above suddenly spoke out as Harry faded away into ashes.

"You… are… _mine…_"

Buffy gasped as she sat up, trying to control her breathing. These dreams, she thought, reaching along the cold floor and finally grasping her flashlight. They were getting worse. They were violent now, and she was showing significant disobedience to her parents. Why her father was walking around acting all smug and coldly negligent of his own son was beyond her comprehension. She wished Faith was there. It wasn't really a prophetic dream; she doubted Faith would have seen what she had. But still, it would have helped to have someone there that knew what it meant to lose someone like that.

A fierce determination was flowing through her. It was the first time since she'd been marked that she'd dreamt of him.

The time had come, she thought to herself. Voldemort was going to strike and he was going to strike hard. She feared for those she loved. She feared for all she knew. And, worst of all, she feared for her brother, thousands of miles away, about to go to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year.

- - - - -

It was just before dawn Sunday when Harry stepped outside, glancing past the grim and desolate landscape surrounding him on Grimmauld Place. He stared at the faint stretch of pink and peach on the horizon, feeling oddly chilled. He crossed his arms as he breathed in the humid morning air. Turning, he walked back inside the house.

"You know," came the slow, drawling voice of Phineas Nigellus from the opposite end of the corridor, "it has been some time since you were up this early."

"I couldn't sleep," Harry said, feeling slightly foolish for confiding in this portrait.

"Don't listen to him," said the curly-haired witch on his left, holding her mirror higher with her right hand so to primp. "He's just grumpy because he's stuck in this hallway with all of us women."

The witch in the portrait across from her giggled as she straightened in her own straight-back chair, forcing her face into a very serious mask. "He was always the grouchy git, was he not Lucinda?"

"Oh, he was far too much good for his own kin, Glelandra," Lucinda purred as she set her mirror aside, patting the big, poof-y red bow on top of her curls. "Perhaps this was something a whiskey could cure."

"Don't you hags ever shut up?" Phineas asked, straightening in his own portrait. In response, both women just snickered louder.

"Harry?" a voice asked from the stairway.

Feeling as though he were rescued, Harry sped forward to see Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs, frowning slightly as his eyes stared back at the argument rising from the corridor. "When she comes back, I am going to rip her apart with my bare hands for putting those portraits there," he grumbled, leading Harry down to the basement kitchen.

The two managed to make breakfast as the rest of the household awoke. Trunks were dragged downstairs and piled before the door as Mrs. Weasley made the call to the Ministry to have two cars take the children to King's Cross.

Hermione was in a right state, showing up to breakfast in tears, convinced this was the last time she would ever ride the Hogwart's Express. Ron was thrilled; despite the fact he really liked the train. Harry was in two minds. He had first met Ron and Hermione on the train which had been the beginning of their friendship. He was also somewhat wary, because of all the times he had been on the train; there had been dangerous ones as well. The Dementor was perhaps the best case, but every year had been faced with a confrontation with his arch-nemesis Draco Malfoy. Knowing that he had beat out Draco in the competition for Head Boy was some consolation, but he knew that Draco would be even more malicious this year.

Lastly, there was Ginny. She was only going into her sixth year, but it was her last year to ride with her older brother and his two best friends.

Once they were all fed and had gotten dressed, the cars from the Ministry arrived. Harry and the others packed their things away just as Lupin and Tonks arrived. Tonks was dressed as an older woman with long dark curly hair today, not unlike Sirius' great aunt Lucinda.

"We'll ride with you, Harry," Lupin said.

Sirius walked outside, his arms folded, scowling. When he saw Lupin and Tonks, the dark look disappeared and he actually smiled.

"Don't worry, Sirius," Harry said, thumping Sirius on the shoulder. "We'll be fine."

"I know," Sirius said, taking a step backwards. Even though he was technically a free man, very few understood that he was one of the only ones that had survived death by the veil. "Good luck, Harry. And good luck to you all!" he called.

"We'll send you an owl, mum," Ron said, hugging his mother for the third time. Molly was nearly in tears as she watched her two youngest children, Harry and Hermione get into the two cars with Remus and Tonks.

Hermione was still in tears as they walked through King's Cross, heading towards the familiar barrier between platforms nine and ten. She held the compass tightly in her hand as she pushed her trunk on board the train before coming about. Harry was standing with a small group of people that included a few fellow seventh-year Gryffindors, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. She wondered if he knew he had to be on the train and sit in a separate compartment. They had been sent their instructions to give the Prefects that morning.

Harry caught up to her a moment later, his hand lightly grazing her arm as they boarded the train. "What do we do?" he asked easily as he handed Hedwig's cage gratefully over to Neville Longbottom as his other friends disappeared.

"We give the Prefects their instructions," Hermione said proudly.

Harry gave her a stern look. "You know I am going to kick you if you start to act like Percy."

"There's nothing wrong with assuming some responsibility, Harry," Hermione said, her voice losing its breathy quality. She sounded mildly annoyed now. Harry felt her enthusiasm grate on his nerves, especially when they walked inside the compartment with the other Prefects. Ginny was already inside waiting for the others with the other sixth year Prefects. What surprised Harry was that Draco Malfoy and the former Prefects were also standing in the compartment, which was rather full.

"Oh," Hermione gasped.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked Draco, gently pushed Hermione to the side.

"The same thing you are," Draco retorted, a sour look on his face. "Is Hogwart's new super couple going to be running this show now?"

Both Harry and Hermione averted their eyes as Ginny glanced up, fire in her gaze. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy."

"Ooh," Draco replied, a trace of a sneer in his tone. "Is that right, Weasel-bee? Is it a cozy little triangle now?"

Ginny turned a slight shade of pink before looking away.

"I would keep quiet if I were you, Malfoy," Ernie MacMillian said as he stepped inside the overfull compartment.

"L-Look," Hermione said, stammering slightly as she fought to regain control. "Are there seventh-year Prefects now?"

"There is this year," Terry Boot said from the hallway behind them.

"Since you already know what to do, you should go," Harry told him, trying to block out Hermione's miffed little sniffing noises next to him. "We're probably scaring all the fifth-years."

Sure enough, there were eight of them standing there looking terrified.

"Let's go," Terry said, and the rest rose to walk out. Only Draco and Pansy remained behind. Draco strode past Hermione, giving her shoulder an extra jostle before stalking past. Pansy eyed Harry almost surreptitiously before turning to Hermione. "Maybe if you're done with him, I'll have a go." She turned a coy eye to Harry as she slipped past him, following Draco down the rocking corridor with her usual saunter. Ron slipped past all of them and ran, panting, to where his two best friends stood, carefully avoiding each other's eyes.

"I just heard… what am I… supposed to do?" Ron asked, clutching his side.

"Patrol," Harry said simply. Hermione was giving the sixth year Prefects orders and soon they, too left, leaving just eight new faces and the Head Boy and Girl behind.

"This is comfortable," Hermione muttered under her breath as Harry grinned at the eight fifth years who stared up at them.

"Are you really Head Boy this year, Harry?" one of the Ravenclaw Prefects asked.

Harry nodded.

"Wow," a Slytherin Prefect remarked sarcastically. "It only comes to show that Dumbledore has no class."

And they thought it was going to be a boring trip. Even Hermione didn't object when Harry delegated the task of watching the first years to the Slytherins, who exchanged mutual smirks before leaving the compartment behind.

When it was empty, they found themselves sitting on opposite ends, staring at the floor.

"I don't know what Percy was thinking when he decided he actually liked this," Hermione admitted.

"Professor Dumbledore must want the extra help in case the train or the school is attacked," Harry surmised. "That's all. It has to be."

"Maybe," Hermione said, leaning back in her seat. Her eyes turned towards the window and the English countryside now passing them by. "I just wish Draco wasn't a part of this."

"Or Pansy," Harry agreed.

She turned to him, her eyebrows raised. "Are you going to have a go with her?" she asked lightly.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry snorted. "You actually want me to have a 'go' with the dog-faced girl?"

That made Hermione feel a little better. "I didn't like the way she spoke about us, that's all," she said softly.

"I know what you mean," Harry replied, staring down at his twisting hands. "Don't… don't think anything of it, Hermione."

But she couldn't get the nagging feeling out of her head that the Slytherins were up to something.

The Sorting Ceremony was magnificent for their final year. Harry felt distinctly proud when they walked into the Great Hall and realized that they were, at last, the oldest students in the school. Many of the younger students waved or called out to them. Many looked up and smiled. It was a great feeling to finally reach the top, but it also meant it was a lot further to fall.

Ron joined Harry and Hermione as the entire group of Gryffindor seventh years sat together, awaiting the arrival of Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. Hagrid soon slipped into his normal seat, waving at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who happily waved back. A large group of first years swept in behind Professor McGonagall, who led them down the line between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables to a small three-legged stool and the old hat that sat on top of it.

After the hat's final song, Hermione felt her eyes tearing up, but cheered all of the same. The students were divided one by one into their houses and the group cheered whenever a new Gryffindor would join their table. They had positioned themselves next to the empty spots to first welcome the students. All of the new students saw Harry straightaway, glancing at his scar before turning to whisper at one another. Unlike two years ago, when they all believed him to be a liar and a show-off, they now saw him as a hero of sorts.

"Welcome, my dear students, to another grand year!" Professor Dumbledore said, getting to his feet, his arms spread wide. Everyone applauded politely, wanting to hear what the Headmaster had to say. "Come now and tuck in!"

The students laughed appreciatively as the tables in front of them were suddenly filled with plates and platters of food. Harry gladly pulled the platter of lamb chops towards him as they all settled in for their last welcome meal, ever. It was hard to see Hermione out of the corner of his eye getting all teary over eating the last ever helping of mashed potatoes at their welcome feast, but it helped to have Parvati Patil sitting next to her to comfort her. Down the table, Ginny was smiling sympathetically. She had not yet forgotten Draco's cold words, nor did they hold any truth.

The Slytherin table was being oddly loud for a table of quiet sneering and whispered jeers. Harry found his eyes wandering and met a few cold stares, all of their lips pursed in a very Aunt Petunia-ish way. But thinking of Aunt Petunia made him recall what had happened to her and he got a very bitter taste in his mouth. Glancing down at his plate, still loaded with food, he set down his fork. Hermione glanced up in surprise but her face fell when she saw the tense, almost sad expression on his face. "What is it?" she asked quietly over the sounds of the scraping of silverware against the china or the rock-concert-like sound quality of hundreds of voices talking at once. "Harry?"

"It's just…" Harry began, but found he couldn't say anything. He didn't need to. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and met the stone cold gazes of the Slytherins before turning back.

"Oh," she said, reaching for her goblet.

"If you're still going to come onto us about embracing school unity…" Ron said in an accusing voice, glaring at Hermione, who looked taken aback.

"I wouldn't do any such thing, especially after what happened last year!" she exclaimed.

"Good!" Ron replied, turning to look at Harry, the anger fading from his eyes. "Harry?"

Harry was turning his spoon over and over in his hands, staring as the silver reflected off of his glasses onto the white tablecloth in front of him. "I wish my sister was here," he said softly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "We know, mate," Ron said quickly.

"We miss her too," Hermione added.

It wasn't that Harry just missed her. She knew how to handle Draco and the entire group of cold-hearted Slytherins. She could handle anything, he thought with a sigh, setting his spoon aside. He had never felt less hungry in his life.

After dessert was over, Professor Dumbledore once again got to his feet.

Harry had abandoned the concept of eating anything, choosing to stare moodily at the plate in front of him. Hermione kept shooting him looks varying from sympathy to pity. Ron kept trying to force Harry to eat something, going so far as to push a bowl of apples under his nose only to receive an apple to the head for his effort. It was better to let him be when he was in these moods, and they hadn't seen much of sullenness from Harry in over a year. Ron and Hermione exchanged another look before glancing up at their Headmaster.

"To all of our newest students, welcome to Hogwarts! To all of our returning students, it gives me great pleasure to welcome you all back!"

Hermione had just scanned the staff table. It was then that her eyes fell on the one unfamiliar face staring back at them. She had been sitting between Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall but now she seemed to be scanning the Great Hall, smirking.

"It gives me great pride to introduce to you our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this term. I would all like you to meet Professor Danes."

"Another woman?" Ron asked, his jaw dropped slightly as he stared at her. Her eyes were scanning the Slytherin table and her smirk grew.

Professor Dumbledore continued talking as Harry gazed hard at this Professor Danes. She looked slightly familiar to him, yet he couldn't place her. She was sitting as though she were on her throne, almost haughty and bored, her dark eyes scanning the crowd. Her sneer grew more pronounced as her eyes met his. He felt something tingle down his spine as their eyes locked. He had never felt so eerie staring at a teacher before. He broke eye contact and turned towards Ron, who was looking at him.

"Who is that?" they asked one another at the same time.

Hermione snorted under her breath. "Well, if you'd listened for the past five seconds, you'd know, wouldn't you?" She stood up, smoothing her long robes. "Come on, Harry. It's our job to make sure the Prefects do theirs right."

Harry gave Ron a quick wave before following a very proud Hermione down the aisle as she called out, "First years, this way! First years, come on now!"

As they trooped through the corridors and up the stairs (Neville finally remembering the trick step he'd forgotten to jump for six years in a row causing Hermione to inexplicably burst into tears again), they came into the Gryffindor corridor.

Harry paused. He'd not been given a password, but Hermione, her hair positively crackling with electricity, said, "prickled pear" in an authoritative tone as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, admitting the short passageway into the Common room.

As Harry stepped inside, he smiled. This is where he belonged, he thought. This is exactly where he wanted to be.

- - - - -

Faith heard the sound of ringing in the distance. She turned over, pulling the striped pillow over her head to block out the offensive noise. Hearing footsteps and an eventual knock on the door, Faith gave up trying to hide from the telephone and lifted her head, her hair falling into her face.

"Faith?" Joyce asked, pushing the door open. "Faith, Wesley's on the phone for you. He says that it's urgent."

"Yeah, sure," Faith yawned as she rose, taking the portable phone from Joyce and sitting on her bed, pushing her hair from her face. "What's up, Jeeves?"

"We have a problem," Wesley's voice said on the other end of the line.

"We have a problem?" she repeated testily. "Oh, I can't even begin to say what my problems are. Did you have any idea that Giles was about to head off to Bulgaria without even telling me or anyone else for that matter? Did you know the Aurors actually planned to destroy his room to make it look as though he'd died?"

"Well, no," Wesley said, sounding taken aback. "Actually, I did learn something about the attack on the building. Apparently a second bomb was planted. The one that destroyed the rest of the building was the bomb that the Death Eaters must have planted."

"There was a second bomb?" Faith asked quietly.

"Apparently someone from that group knew what the Aurors were planning," Wesley said, speaking very fast now. "I don't have much time, but I need to tell you this in case my line is tapped and I only have a few moments left to live."

"Stop being so dra-dra-dramatic," Faith said, failing to stifle her yawn. "It's four thirty in the morning, Wes. I just got back in a few hours ago."

"Faith, you have to listen to me very carefully," Wesley said, his tone turning to an obnoxious shade of seriousness.

"I'm listening," she countered.

"I know the dangers of you returning to England," Wesley began, "but you must go."

"I don't have to do anything, Giles," she said, purposely mispronouncing the name of Buffy's former Watcher. "I'm the Slayer."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Wes?" she prompted.

"Faith, just listen to him," a different voice said.

"Angel?" Faith asked in confusion.

"I have the book in front of me," Wesley said in a breathless tone as Faith heard the sound of pages turning. "It's from a sixteenth century foreseer. She supposedly had the powers of a seer not to mention she was raised near a mystical fountain—"

"Wesley, I don't need the background," Faith said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just tell me."

"She spoke of a prophecy," Angel said, filling in while Wesley muttered in the background. "In fact, she had many. She predicted her own death in the late sixteenth century…"

"I found it!" Wesley exclaimed, cutting Angel off. "These mighty tyrants will fail to do. They fail to split the world in two. But from their acts a danger bred an ague - leaving many dead. And physics find no remedy. For this is worse than—"

"All I hear is poetry," Faith said impatiently.

"There's more," Wesley said grimly. "He is but chosen, a man with the mark on his head. He carries the weight of the world, but in the end he'll only know death."

Faith closed her eyes. It was so obviously Harry. "And?" she asked, as though she didn't want to hear the end.

"The world will end as the tyrants rise, filled with mirth, deceit and lies. The one by his side will know only tears and the world will end with her deepest fears…"

"I don't do poetry," Faith said in frustration. "Can't you—"

"Don't you see it?" Wesley asked, his voice carefully stressing each syllable. "Faith, no matter what happens; her prophecies are almost always true. That boy you care about so much, that Harry Potter… he is going to die."

Faith opened her eyes. She wasn't aware of the telephone slipping from her grasp and landing at the floor near her feet. Her eyes stared straight ahead as Wesley's voice crackled through the telephone line at her feet.

"Faith..." Wesley said urgently, following by a persistent, "Faith… Faith? Faith, answer me… Faith!"

- - - - -

Chapter 6… We see how a newly father-less Draco spent his summer. Harry deals with the death and disappearance of his total family. Willow faces her own magical obstacles which may lead to bigger problems.

Chapter 7… Buffy grows delirious after being poisoned, returning to a world where James and Lily are still alive. Faith makes the biggest decision of her life. The war between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins has only just begun… and the Death Eaters finally make their move.

- - - - -

**Chapter Notes**

So much for completing this story by March… it would give me two months to finish the next, oh, 20 chapters. I have most of the outline planned out, but unlike the prequel, which was already well-written when I started to post. Life has been full of chaos lately. Things are finally starting to settle down and I am finally able to return to my writing. I do have to thank Grace for being ever-so-patient with me while I've been taking forever getting these chapters to her and she's all locked up in classes learning. I _almost _wish I was back in school right about now. Four of us are now out, and my baby brother is the only one currently in. After spending two hours helping him with accounting homework, I realize I do kind of miss it. How… sad.

**Reviewer Comments**

Thank you very much for all of your comments and reviews! I know these chapters are shorter, but that's a good thing. This story probably won't be so wordy as the prequel was.

**CharmedChick:** Harry's dream was meant to be confusing. What it basically goes to show is that Buffy has a hell of a time ahead of her and in the end, she may be alone. She would have brought it on herself. It goes something like that. More Harry dreams are forthcoming. I hope to do some non-confusing ones.

**Amy:** Yeah… can you tell I'm an American? Well… I'll fix it when I have the time to fix it. After reading up on graduate studies at Oxford, the only non-single rooms are for families and such. It should have been called a "suite-mate", because isn't that what they're called? I have no idea. It would be better for Willow to not have a roommate anyway, especially if she is going about with the magicks. Thanks for the info. :)

**The Lady Morgaine:** Actually, the explosion had a purpose, as you can probably read. How many am I planning on killing off? That would be too easy now, wouldn't it? I do plan on killing off two, but perhaps more. Natural deaths do count in the "killing off" part, right? I don't know. People die in wars, and it's senseless to give a straight number when the Wizarding world is really at war. As for looking cheery, that would give a sense of false security and… well… that would be pleasant right about now.

**Lightdemondarkangel:** The anti-magic roommate is actually a suite-mate, someone who would live down the hall. It actually introduces both an old and a new character. I don't want to do it that way, but I sort of need the figure, hence the introduction. Faith wasn't meant to be the target as you have probably read. Giles wasn't even the target. It was a set-up planned, considering Faith was being tracked by _two _groups of people. Giles now serves a greater purpose in the fight against evil, and Buffy's last request was to have her watcher back. It wasn't really a target, but just this sort of planned-out thing to make it seem like he was dead when in reality he was thousands of miles away, or en route to it. As for Harry's dark surprise, well… torture is a good key word there. Draco is up to his old tricks. If you thought he hated Harry before, just wait until you see what he has planned… his father may be imprisoned, but the spirit is still tucked in his body.

**Annje:** Spike and Faith both survived. They just showed up at the wrong place and the wrong time. Spike was set-up, considering some actually knew he was in league with the Slayer. Sending him to her with that information and the precise time would have given the Death Eaters all the time they needed to knock off the Slayer they considered the most anti-dark. But, as luck would have it, they foiled their plan because it was actually Giles' plan to have his room destroyed to make it seem as though he were dead and unfortunately Spike and Faith were caught in the blast. It makes you think, though… how would the Death Eaters know what the Aurors were planning, even if American? Hmm…

**General Mac: **Of course.

**Maleficus Lupinus: **Giles isn't dead. In fact, the explosion was Giles' idea. He's somewhere else though, if you've read the chapter. I'm not going to divulge on details. But he's all right.

**Sparky24: **Well, Giles isn't dead, so you did get what you want. As for Harry/Hermione, well… only time will tell.

**Naitch03: **Faith will survive. Giles disappeared. And Spike will confess his love to his undying rabbit Blinky. The only reason he hangs around Faith is because she can lead him to stuff he can kill. Faith will eventually return, but she has some stuff to think about and a few last visits to make. As for Harry's feelings, I think they are on the genuine side. He loves his sister (well, at times he can hate her, too) and Faith represents what his sister stands for. The lust thing would be… weird. It could be lust though. Harry and Hermione have known each other far too long to let their relationship/friendship disappear, but things change between friends, and that's what I wanted to get across. In the end, Harry will find love, but it sort of remains a lopsided triangle at the moment. As for work blahs, take care, get plenty of rest and don't forget to write!

**Electric pancake: **Do you think Buffy will be fine in Bulgaria? Can you imagine the things that can go wrong? That is why, in part, the girl needs her Watcher. Giles might not know Bulgarian, but the least he can do is help her adjust, as he's done every other time. I haven't forgotten the Aurors, but they've been rather busy, as you will soon see. I can sleep with a free set of steak knives? That sounds potentially entertaining! As for the chocolate, hell… I don't think I've had anything without caffeine in a month… coffee, chocolate… anything with really, really high amounts of sugar and caffeine. It's probably a really bad idea, but it does keep one awake for many, many hours a day.


	6. You Were Only Waiting

**Chapter 6**

**You Were Only Waiting**

o-o-o

It took Faith only a few seconds to realize that Wesley had stopped shouting on the other end of the line. She bent down and carefully lifted the receiver. "Wesley?" she asked quietly, only to hear muffled static in the background. "Wesley?"

There was a loud bang on the other end of the line.

Faith gasped, dropping the phone again before getting to her feet, staring at the receiver on the floor. All at once her senses came rushing back. She needed to get to Wesley and she needed to get there yesterday. Grabbing her coat from the bed, she peeled into the hallway where Joyce was standing.

"Faith? Faith, was that Wesley? Is there something wrong?"

Faith ignored her as she bounded downstairs, feeling as though she were so close to losing control before anger completely overtook her. As she reached the bottom, she came face-to-face with Cordelia. "Oh, I so don't have time for this," Faith muttered, quickly darting past her. She had no idea why Cordelia Chase was awake at four thirty in the morning, much less dressed and ready for action.

"Faith, this is insane!" Cordelia said, turning around to watch Faith shrug on her leather jacket and look around for the set of keys.

"Cordy, Wes is in trouble. I just heard a gunshot or something. He may be hurt or worse and the only way he can get any help is from me. Now, you're driving, so where the hell are your keys?"

Cordelia blinked at her once, as though thinking things through. At last she walked back over to collect her keys. "We should go."

Faith gave her a tremendous half-smile before turning to look up at Joyce. "We'll be okay, Joyce. We just have something to take care of quickly."

"Really," Cordelia said with her usual cheerful smile. "We'll be back in time for dinner."

Faith shot her a dark look before opening the door and bursting outside. Cordelia followed behind her, glancing one last time up at Joyce's flabbergasted face.

"Do you have _any _idea where we are going?" Cordelia asked as Faith practically ripped the door off her car as she closed it.

"Wesley's townhouse is north of Los Angeles," Faith replied as Cordelia started the ignition. "It would do us both a favor if you hurried it up."

"Right," Cordelia replied, quickly gunning the engine in reverse and practically spinning gracefully onto the street. Faith turned to her, looking mildly irate. "Oh, I suppose you want to get there alive, right?"

"That'd be a good thing," Faith said simply. Cordelia nodded and quickly sped away as Joyce watched quietly from her front door before gently pushing it shut.

o-o

Buffy was awakened by an incessant creaking on the floorboards over her head. She felt something like dust fall from the cracked ceiling, landing on her face. She brushed it away and turned onto her side, willing the sound to go away.

The sound was followed by what sounded like someone screaming in a language other than English. Blinking, Buffy opened her eyes, staring around her dark room. For all she knew, it was still the middle of the night. Her tiny apartment was cold, unwelcoming and window-less. She reached around the mattress to the sticky cement floor trying to find her flashlight. When she found it, the light illuminated the blank white wall and a rather astonishing network of cobwebs. She nearly shrieked at the size of the arachnid dangling from one of the silky strands.

"That's not normal," she breathed, backing off of her mattress and landing on the cold floor. A chair was dragged across the floor directly above her head, the sound seeming to mock her. She was stuck in hell. This had to be worse than hell. She was in Bulgaria, a country she could barely spell, let alone live in comfortable, living in something like a castle. Only, this wasn't a castle. This was a prison. Four white walls, a cold mattress on the floor and spiders the size of saucers floating around.

She dressed quickly, throwing a scathing glance at the shower. She really wanted to clean up well considering she was meeting the rest of the team, but perhaps she could use one of the upstairs bathrooms. This one looked far from hospitable.

It was early morning, she supposed, once she opened the door and was greeted by a blast of hot sunlight. It was so cold in her room that a sweatshirt had been needed, but in this weather, any clothing would be too much. The humidity had dropped somewhat and there were fluffy white clouds overhead, looking more like wispy feathers and tentacles. Despite the warmth, which she figured to be near eighty, she climbed the stairs towards the main veranda. There were several trunks stacked outside the double-wide door that hadn't been there the night before. Along with those was a large blue bin. Since the plastic lid was off, Buffy saw that it was full of thin sticks that looked more like obnoxiously long stakes.

The front door was open. Pushing it lightly, Buffy walked into the main entryway. With the light streaming in from the east, it looked calm and peaceful inside, not nearly as gloomy as it had been the night before. There were voices coming from the parlor now. Removing her sweatshirt and smoothing her camisole top underneath, Buffy entered the kitchen and found it full of people.

"Buffy, good morning!" Giles said, turning around. He looked relieved to see her there. His eyes were bright and his face wore that tight, forced expression that he usually wore when he was irritated. "Did you sleep well?"

"As good as I could," Buffy said. She really wanted to tell him about her less-than-ideal living conditions but she couldn't bring herself to do it. An older woman had suddenly spotted her and brushed Giles aside as though he were an insect, coming to rest a good three feet from where Buffy stood.

"Are you Buffy Summers?" she asked in an arched voice.

"No," Buffy said, crossing her arms. She could tell by the pained expression on Giles' face that this woman was being a total bitch to him. She wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily. "I'm not Buffy Summers. I mean, that's not my legal name now, is it?"

The woman heaved a great sigh, as though Buffy were acting like an insolent child. "What do you prefer to call yourself then, Miss Summers?"

"Buffy is a good start," Buffy said with a slight smirk. "My given name was Elizabeth Potter."

"Is this so?" the woman asked, turning to look at Giles, who hid his gaze behind one of his hands and gave a quirky nod. Satisfied with this answer, she turned back to look at Buffy. She wore square spectacles that slid down her nose, making her eyes, which were a deep blue and rather pinched looking, seem even smaller. Her hair was iron gray and pulled back into such a tight bun at the back of her head that the lines of her face were widened. Her lips were thin, making her look even more gaunt than normal. She was much taller than Buffy. She had to be at least six feet tall, and when Buffy glanced down, she saw an older pair of heels. She had a few pink spots on her cheeks that made her face appear sun-spotted and ancient. She had to be at least fifty, Buffy guessed.

"Yes, it is so," Buffy said in an amused voice. "You may call me Buffy."

"And you may call me Mrs. Ironton," the woman said in a stuffy tone. Her accent was hard to place, although it was clearly European. Buffy noticed that two of the males standing opposite Giles in the doorway to the dining area were whispering back and forth in an unmistakably foreign language. "My name is Irene Ironton. I have been with the Ministry of Magic since before you were born. Of this, I am certain. You look no older than fifteen."

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, abandoning all pretense to be a bitch. She felt her spine tingle in indignation as she threw Giles a disbelieving glance. "I'm nineteen years old!"

"You hardly seem to be any older than fifteen," Mrs. Ironton continued, her voice turning distinctly colder, as though warning Buffy not to interrupt her again. "They should not put children your age into such danger by placing you in the line of fire night after night."

"Now, just wait a minute," Giles interjected, looking angry. "I—"

"Mister Giles, do shut up," Mrs. Ironton said, throwing him a chilling glance that sent tingles down Buffy's spine. "I thought I told you that to interrupt me was a very foolish idea."

Buffy watched as Giles removed his glasses. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and he refused to meet her eyes.

Is this what he had been doing all morning, listening to this woman insult him? Buffy felt anger flow through her own veins as she met Mrs. Ironton's stone-cold blue gaze.

"So, you are the vampire Slayer," the woman said, walking in a stiff circle around the younger girl. "You may be nineteen, but to this point, you have been misinformed. I never knew of a Slayer to carry such magical powers as I have been told you possess."

"Well, if that's news to you," Buffy said cheerfully, wanting to put this woman in her place. "There's—"

"Buffy," Giles cut in, shooting her a warning look. She suddenly realized that Giles wanted Faith's identity to remain hidden and bit down on her lip, looking away. "What she means to say is that she knows this is unprecedented, but this is the way it is."

"I see," Mrs. Ironton snapped, looking between the two. Her eyebrow arched suspiciously at the callous look on the blonde's face. "Anyway, you know my name. I am an informant for the British Ministry of Magic. I am a level seven vampire hunter and trainer. These," she said, gesturing to the two males in the doorway, "are my pupils."

"Hello," one said with an accent so thick Buffy could barely understand that greeting, let alone any others. "My name is Kristofer."

The other one gave her a curt nod, his eyes dark and glinting. From where she was standing, the figure reminded her slightly of Severus Snape.

"Both Kris and Tom are at level two," Mrs. Ironton said crisply. "From what your former Watcher Rupert here has been telling me, you are too at a level two."

"I am?" Buffy asked, turning to give Giles a hurt look. He didn't meet her gaze though and stared at the opposite wall, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"I will make an analysis during your patrol this evening," Mrs. Ironton said, giving Buffy a look that said that she wasn't going to tolerate Buffy's attitude. "You will go out for two hours at sundown per my instructions."

"Oh, I will, will I?" Buffy asked, feeling fed up with this woman's attitude. She was acting like Principal Snyder for some odd reason. "Listen, Lady Britches, but I work for one person and that's me. I slay alone."

"It is my understanding," Mrs. Ironton said in a loud, brassy tone, "that if you are to work alone, you would do so as a private citizen. Considering that this country is my jurisdiction and not your own, you have no say whatsoever. The Ministry brought you here to be under _my _protection," she added in a cold tone, her eyes switching briefly to meet Giles'. "Considering that you are under strict orders to be in a place where the violence is far from occurring, I should expect you to follow my orders. If you do not, the Ministry will have no choice but to confine you."

Buffy was seething. She desperately wanted to whack her one, but the look on Giles's face was clear enough. He knew what was at stake here. The Ministry knew she was a loose cannon and didn't know what to do with her. She was going to have to endure Mrs. Ironton for as long as she needed to. She crossed her arms and gave the woman a very stern look before looking away. Mrs. Ironton's face wore a curiously supercilious expression as she turned back to the two males.

"Would you two kindly show Miss _Potter _here the facilities in the basement? If they are to your liking, I should expect you to commit at least one hour of physical activity down there per day."

"Are you gonna put that in your little black notebook?" Buffy asked sarcastically, indicating the small black book lying underneath Mrs. Ironton's pale palm.

"Tomas," Mrs. Ironton said in a loud, commanding tone.

"Yes, ma'am," came another accented voice as the tall, alluring figure stepped forward to extend his hand towards her. "Right this way, Miss."

"It's Buffy, okay?" she snapped irritably as she stalked past him.

Tomas just gave Mrs. Ironton a long-suffering look before following after her. The soft-spoken Kris also moved away, a hand moving upwards to push his fair hair from his face.

"She is certainly an intriguing individual," Mrs. Ironton said in a stuffy voice, picking up the notebook and a black pen. "I would have expected more accountability on her part."

"If there's one thing you need to know about her," Giles said, fixing her with his piercing look, "it's that you can only push so far before she pushes back."

"I will take that into consideration," Mrs. Ironton said, carefully filling out her notes. "I would expect her to fall into line."

Giles nearly let out a snort of laughter. "Don't count on it," he said with a smirk, moving past her.

"And where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Ironton asked in her deep, demanding voice.

"She's my charge," Giles said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to watch her."

"Obviously you never did _your job _to specifications," she retorted, giving him a slight smirk in response to his widening eyes. "Anyone can see how underdeveloped she has become. She should have been prepared far more than she has been."

"Considering this past year," Giles said in a hard voice, crossing his arms, "I think she has done remarkably well."

"We shall see," Mrs. Ironton said in her overly dramatic tones.

Giles smirked as he turned around and stared at the grand staircase leading into the basement. She had no idea what she'd stepped into. His Buffy was going to show her how a Slayer truly acted.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he had to work hard to hold in his laughter. Both Kris and Tomas were lying on their stomachs with Buffy standing over him, her hands on her hips. When she saw Giles staring at her, she gave him a guilty smile.

"Well, she told me to show them," she said with that innocent sparkle in her eyes.

He shook his head and bent down to see Tomas pushing himself up painfully from the ground. "You all right?" he asked gently.

The boy shook his head, his hand rising to stem the flow of blood from his nose. "I think she broke my vose," he said in a thick Bulgarian accent.

"So sorry," Buffy said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. Giles gave her a quick look and she shrugged uncomfortably under his scrutiny before bending down to help Kris upwards. "Sorry about that."

He shook his arm from her grasp, glaring at her. "You may think you are strong, Slayer," he said in his accented voice. Giles knew that from the look on her face, she couldn't understand him very well.

"I kicked both of your asses, didn't I?" she asked with that impish grin.

"We did not have time to prepare," Tomas said, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose. Buffy stepped towards him, looking concerned, but Kris pulled her back. Or, rather, he stuck out his arm and she dragged him along a good ten feet before her Watcher had intervened.

"What is this, a classroom?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

"We have been properly taught how to fight the evil and the other forces of darkness," Kris said quietly.

"Oh," Buffy said, tilting her head. "So, you guys have seen a few pictures and had a few well-coordinated hunts, right?"

"That is correct, yes," Tomas replied.

Buffy sighed heavily. "Giles…"

"You'll have to forgive her," he said, giving both young men a quiet smile. "She usually isn't very patient."

"They've been _learning _how to fight vampires from a classroom, Giles. A classroom! There's no instinct, there's no seeing that there's three seconds between you and certain death… there's nothing but someone teaching you how to whittle a stake!" Buffy cried, exasperated. "Giles!"

"How are we all squaring off down here?"

Buffy turned to look at the cold face of Mrs. Ironton. Buffy believed the iron actually ran through her veins. She turned and gave Giles a helpless look. She was trapped in hell, literally. She thought that vampire hunting with an actual team would be fun. Sure, and then they'd all go out for a controlled ice cream run afterwards. She imagined Mrs. Ironton's evening of fun would be sitting in front of a fireplace bitching at a bunch of young girls and telling them how to be a lady.

"I wish for you to prepare for tonight," Mrs. Ironton said stiffly. "Garments were special ordered and brought in. Also, you received a shipment almost ten minutes ago. I placed it on the kitchen table. After breakfast, you will clean up and prepare to move into one of the rooms on the main level."

"I can leave that crappy apartment?" Buffy gasped, forgetting for a second that she was being ordered around like a six-year-old.

"You may, but only if you _fall into line_," Mrs. Ironton said archly.

Buffy sped past her and found a box of black pants and black tops waiting for her on the counter. She took the box with her over to the dining room table where a large basket was waiting. Inside the plastic wrap were several layers of boxed sweets and tricks. Buffy felt a slow grin moving across her face as she pulled out a small pack of Fizzing Whizbees.

Those twins could always brighten her day.

There was a letter tucked inside, too. She pulled it out and read it, a smile growing broadly on her face. She wished that she could set Fred and George Weasley on Mrs. Ironton and the two double morons. Then they'd learn a lesson or two about messing with the best.

Oh, that thought cheered her up completely.

o-o

Harry woke up early the next morning. It was Monday, the first day of his last year at Hogwarts. He pushed aside the hangings around his four-posted bed and found himself smiling cheerfully across the room. The four other beds looked quiet and peaceful. Turning, he saw that it was shortly before seven.

He rose and dressed quickly, not wanting to wake the others. He thought he heard Dean's hangings stir, but didn't turn around.

The path down the steps was the longest yet. Being on the seventh floor of the tall tower made him feel all grown up, but he knew it was because the younger students would tire quickly after having to climb so many stairs.

The Common Room was nearly empty. He smiled at Ginny and her friends, who were gathered near the fire, chatting excitedly about their new courses. He saw a small group of second years, including Laurel Wood, sitting near the window. They were whispering and giggling. When Harry walked over to them to say hello, he saw that Laurel had turned bright red before turning to look up at Harry.

"Hi, there," he said in a friendly voice. The girls immediately giggled while Laurel seemed to have trouble breathing.

She finally managed to squeak out a tiny "Hello" before the entire table erupted. Harry didn't know what was going on and turned away, only to come face-to-face with the vivacious redheaded Weasley girl. She looked extremely amused about something as she pulled him aside. She seemed to soften slightly at the hard looks she was now receiving from a table full of twelve-year-old girls.

"What in blazes was that about?" Harry asked, astounded.

"Someone has a crush," Ginny said, a small smile playing around her lips.

"Gee, I wonder what that's like," Harry said, giving her a bemused smirk. She started laughing and shook her head vehemently.

"Trust me, Harry. I'm sure your sister was bragging her head off about you," Ginny said, giving him a conspirator's wink. "She was bound to pick things up."

"Oh, right," Harry said, his mood souring somewhat. He actually had no idea what his sister would say about him. He wondered though, considering the twelve-year-old girls were now waving impishly at him while giggling behind their spare hands. "Instead I have a table full of groupies."

"You'd better get used to it," Ginny said, giving him a soft look.

"What about you?" Harry asked. He realized suddenly that he hadn't seen Ginny with any of his friends as of late.

"I'll be okay," she said with a shrug.

"What happened to Dean?" Harry asked.

"Buffy threatened to ostracize him, whatever that means," Ginny said with a shudder. "She didn't think he was right for me."

"And you actually followed her advice?" Harry asked incredulously.

"It's not like it would ever hurt to try it out," Ginny said defensively, leading the way as they started towards breakfast. "I mean, she has Percy's respect… that's got to mean something, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said absentmindedly. "He didn't say anything to you about Dean, did he?"

"Percy wouldn't do that," Ginny said quietly. "It isn't his style."

"But he would go to Buffy," Harry said, something like anger in his voice. "If he didn't like Dean, he would definitely try to talk Buffy into talking to you."

"No, she wouldn't do that," said Ginny defensively, the tips of her ears turning pink. As with Ron, this was always a warning sign. It made her look as though her head was boiling from the bottom up. "She may be a lot of things, Harry, but she's not into coercion."

"Maybe you're right," he said slowly, not wanting to completely anger her.

"I _am _right," Ginny said, glaring at him. There was an awkward pause before she added, "Maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do."

These words stung slightly, but they were the truth. Harry had only spent a year with her. He really didn't know her. He knew she killed vampires. He knew she was very dedicated to her friends and to him. But he didn't know much else. He didn't know her favorite color or which magazines she liked to read or even her favorite beverage or pair of jeans. There were still a lot of unknowns hanging between them and Harry also admitted that if asked, she wouldn't be able to answer these questions about him either.

"Yeah," said Harry, speeding up slightly. Ginny seemed to realize she'd said something wrong and hurried to catch up with him.

"Harry, wait," she said, chasing him towards the stairs. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Well, it's the truth, isn't it?" Harry shot back. "I'm never going to have the nice happy family like you do. I'll never have two loving parents and heaps of brothers who love, adore and _know me_ so well. All I'll ever have is her."

There were tears sparkling on Ginny's lashes now. "Is that enough for you?" she asked tearfully.

"Yeah," Harry said defensively, tipping his chin upwards. His emerald eyes were blazing with fury now. "She's all I'll ever need. She's my sister. I had nothing once… and now I have her. She may have done some things neither one of us could be proud of but underneath it all, she's still blood."

Ginny forced herself to nod. She couldn't bring herself to say anything else. Harry turned around and continued downstairs. She watched him for a moment before following behind. It was only when she heard a nasal voice from far below did she look up again.

The door to the Slytherins' dungeons was opening just as Harry passed before it. Draco Malfoy had stepped around the opposite side and, seeing Harry standing there alone, sneered. "Well, if it isn't Granger's precious Potter."

Ginny bristled, immediately reaching into her robes for her wand.

"Go bark up someone else's tree, Malfoy," Harry said shortly. "I'm not in the mood."

"Not so friendly today, are you?" Draco asked gleefully as Crabbe and Goyle entered the hall from behind him, the door closing heavily, as though sentencing Harry to a dark fate. Ginny stood in the shadows, uncertain of whether she could intervene or go and get help or something.

"No, not really feeling the need to be friendly to _you _of all people," Harry snapped, his eyes darkening. First, Ginny had mocked him. Now, of all people, Malfoy was picking up the slack. What a bad morning, he thought tragically, especially when it was one he had looked forward to so openly.

"Didn't your Muggle relatives ever teach you any manners?" Draco sneered as Crabbe flexed his muscles. Goyle neatly plucked Draco's wand out of his robes and handed it over to his leader.

"They taught me how to wash behind my ears and say my 'please' and 'thanks'," Harry said, crossing his arms. He really didn't want to stand there and take this, but after everything else, he wasn't going to just let it go this one time.

"Where are your shadows?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing malevolently. At Harry's hesitation, his smirk grew more pronounced. "They're not here to protect precious Potter?"

"No," Harry said, a smile spreading across his face.

"What are you smiling at?" Draco demanded.

"Oh, just a little something my _sister _told me about you," Harry said, turning his anger into his intent to mock Draco in front of his so-called cronies.

"And exactly what did your sister say?" Draco asked, his eyes suddenly sparkling with interest. Harry had hit it on the mark. Draco still cared for Buffy.

"She told me what a nasty, inferior git you were," Harry said in a voice of quiet triumph. "She said you were so far beneath her that you couldn't see the light of day."

Buffy, of course, would never say such a thing. She found Draco to be a funny, immature little boy with a schoolgirl's crush on someone he would never be able to touch. Of course, saying that in her own words would have infuriated Malfoy even more.

Draco gave Harry a long look before turning to look at his two cronies. "Let's go."

As they marched into the Great Hall, Harry waved sarcastically after them. Once the door had swung shut, he glanced up to see Ginny emerging from the shadows. "Thanks for your help."

"You had it under control," she said breathlessly. She had never seen a tirade between the two end without blood.

"Well, I do have something up on him," Harry said, smirking slightly.

"Oh?" Ginny asked curiously.

"That'll be five points from Slytherin," Harry said, turning to the hourglasses over their heads. The few green stones inside the structure disappeared, leaving the Slytherin's glass completely drained. "I knew I'd like this job."

"You've got to be careful, Harry," Ginny warned in an undertone as she and Harry entered the Great Hall. "He'll be likely to get you back for that."

"Head Boy's privilege," Harry said proudly, tapping on the badge he wore on his school robes. "I can give detention, too. Imagine Draco doing two weeks of detention with Madam Pince…"

Even Ginny felt the evil smile spread across her face. Spotting Hermione already sitting at breakfast, she and Harry rushed over to join her.

Draco, meanwhile, was sitting angrily with the small group of Slytherins at their table.

"That Potter has got to go down," Theodore Nott was saying in his dark tone, throwing a scathing look at Harry from behind a long fringe of muddy brown hair.

Draco felt the raw feeling of hatred stir within him as he spied Ginny parting ways with Harry before joining her own friends at the opposite end of the table. His eyes settled first on Hermione and he felt a cold smile move across his face. "He'll get what's coming to him. I told Father in my last letter that I would handle Potter."

"Oh?" Theodore asked, turning to look at Draco with interest. Like Malfoy, Theodore had been an orphan over the summer. Narcissa Malfoy was a brutally cold-willed woman, sarcastic and catty as the rest of them. The instant she found that her husband's estate had become Ministry property, she had moved herself and Draco into a small house on the outskirts of London. It was nothing like the large, spacious mansion he was used to, but it was a roof over his head and four walls to keep England's driving rains out.

Theodore, on the other hand, had been taken in by Child Protective Services, which had placed him in a halfway house. They feared he would take the same path his Death Eater of a father would and spent six weeks in deep religious training, resenting every last minute of it.

"Potter _will _pay," Goyle promised, crackling his knuckles and guffawing stupidly.

"Not at first," Draco said casually. He'd spent the entire summer planning this out. Hell, his own mother had been the mastermind of it all, he thought, feeling a bit proud of his mother's abilities. His eyes traveled from Hermione over to Ginny. His mother had instructed him that the closest shot to a man's heart was through the skull of his lady. Buffy was already out of the picture Narcissa had assured him. She would be taken care of in Bulgaria. That left Hermione and Ginny, but Draco was uncertain as to which one he should go after first. He noticed Pansy's cool look towards Hermione as she took the spare seat on the opposite side of Draco.

"You never looked at her that much before," she said glumly, watching the way Draco's smirk grew more pronounced at seeing Ginny's flaming red hair swinging freely about her shoulders. "What's up now?"

"Potter," Theodore replied.

"Oh," Pansy said, an evil little smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "Well, maybe you should—"

"There'll be no sleeping with the enemy, Parkinson," Draco barked, a little too hard for her tastes. Her eyes narrowed, but her jaw snapped shut. Her look was mutinous and he knew she wanted to deck him one for even suggesting what he had been suggesting.

"I wasn't," she said in a hard voice. "I was thinking about the other."

Draco's look relaxed slightly as he took in the thoughtful expression on her face. "You may have something there."

"I know I do," she said, giving him a sweet smile that didn't quite reach up to the depth of her cold, traitorous eyes. "Dumbledore is going to rue the day he even spoke out against Voldemort."

Draco was just thinking the same thing, along with the thought that Pansy and his mother would get along perfectly. He turned his eyes towards his plate but lifted them once at the sound of Hermione's laughter. The owls were arriving and, if Draco's father had been correct, something special for Potter would be arriving just about…

"Hey, Harry, you got a package!" Hermione said happily, handing her owl a knut before taking her copy of _The Daily Prophet._ "Who's it from?"

"I don't know," Harry said in a confused voice, taking the small white box from Hedwig and shoving his goblet of orange juice under her beak. She took a quick draught before spreading her wings and taking flight again. He was about to untie the bright red ribbon when Ron suddenly appeared, dropping his bag next to Harry as he sat down quickly.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Ron asked, running a hand through his long red hair and pulling a platter of bacon towards him.

"I was up early," Harry said, setting the ribbon aside.

"Who is that from?" Ron asked, eyeing the box suspiciously as he piled on scrambled eggs on top of his bacon.

"I don't know," Harry repeated, about to lift the top off when suddenly Professor McGonagall appeared.

"Harry, Ron," she said, nodding at both boys, "I would like to see you both in my office after your first lesson is complete. I happen to know you each have a free period after your Double Charms."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.

Across the room, Draco was growing impatient. "Just open the bloody box," he said, a mean smile playing with the corners of his mouth.

Once she had gone, Harry set the box aside and turned to Ron, chattering happily.

But Hermione's attention hadn't left the small white box. "Maybe it's from your sister," she suggested, breaking into their conversation about Quidditch practice and who would make a good Chaser now that they had lost two to graduation, both Buffy and Katie Bell.

"Maybe," Ron said, swallowing his eggs as Harry reached for the box again.

When he opened it, he felt faint suddenly. He dropped the box on his plate.

Hermione's eyes widened as she jumped to feet, backing away quickly, gasping out, "Oh!" Her mouth seemed to be open in a small 'o' shape, her lips perfectly formed. But it wasn't an expression of surprise. It was an expression of shock and disgust.

Ron just stared at the box, fascinated.

Ginny had heard Hermione's scream and had come running. The moment she had seen the box, she had fainted, her pale face wan and lifeless as she crashed to the floor. The Hufflepuffs at the next table responded to Ginny's reaction and hurried over to see what had happened to her. Hannah Abbott leaned down to gently extract Ginny from the stampede before she was trampled to death.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. His mind was reminding him of a conversation that his Uncle Vernon had had with him back before his third year: the only way to deal with his kind was to hang them.

Apparently his Uncle had met the same gruesome fate.

There was a picture on the underside of the box lid of his uncle hanging by his individual fingers, one of them removed. There was a bloody stump where there had once been a true, working limb. His face appeared waned and beaten, but his eyes had lost a bit of their sanity. Even now his skin appeared bloated and almost disfigured, as though he'd spent a great deal of time in the water. It was clear from every perspective that his Uncle Vernon had been tortured to death.

His Uncle's form was limp and immobile, not moving. It wasn't really doing anything except reminding Harry that his Uncle was dead. Another member of his family, no matter how much he despised him, had been taken away. He couldn't help thinking, one more down…

Nearly the entire Great Hall had erupted now and Professors McGonagall and Snape were the only two inside Hall with the authority to shut everyone else up. Minerva quickly made her way through the screaming, crying hoards and saw the box lying on Harry's plate. She clapped a startled hand over her mouth before chancing one look at the expression on Harry's face.

His Uncle's finger was lying inside the box. There were still bits of broken bone and cords of some muscle he didn't know hanging off of the severed limb. It was lying on top of a bit of black parchment, as though mocking him. He remembered how many times his Uncle had shaken that index finger at him, usually to confront him or else insult him.

Feeling sick, Harry turned to rush from the Great Hall as the room grew louder behind him. Even Snape's valiant attempt to hold back the students wasn't working.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried, but it was too late.

The doors had already swung shut behind him.

And Draco Malfoy sat down on his bench, a smile of deep satisfaction on his face.

o-o

The door to the small single room creaked open and a sharp redhead glanced out.

Willow felt her gaze penetrate the quiet hallway before she risked stepping out, hurriedly closing the door to her magically enhanced room behind her. She had just pulled her key out of the lock when she saw a shadow of someone standing next to her.

"Hello," came a calm voice and a hand was thrust under her nose. "I'm Anne."

"Willow," she said, and the two shook hands.

"You got the best room in the building," Anne said, giving Willow an envious look. "I applied for that room, but they said they gave it to the American exchange student. I'm assuming that would be you."

"Yeah, that's me," Willow said with a quick smile.

"You ready for orientation?" Anne asked, pulling out a notebook as the two stepped towards the staircase and began moving down with the rest of the crowds. "I'm a bit excited myself."

"Where are you from?" Willow asked, attempting to initiate conversation.

"Oh, the south," Anne said vaguely, gesturing lamely. "I'm curious to know where you are from. You've got such a striking accent."

"California," Willow admitted. "I'm transferring from the University of California for a semester abroad."

"Really?" Anne asked, looking mildly intrigued. "Well, I hope you'll enjoy our weather over here. It gets a bit cold for those of California tastes."

"I didn't really think so," Willow interjected. "I mean, my best friend came over here last year."

"Did she now?" Anne said, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "And you decided you were jealous enough and wanted the same experience?" She held the door open for Willow as they both walked out into the early morning Oxford light.

Willow grimaced. The thought of going through what Buffy had the year before was not enticing in the least. Facing off against Death Eaters, watching your own Council go up in flames and finding your identity was not something Willow was very eager to do. She was perfectly happy with the life she had at the moment and she told Anne this.

"A pity," Anne said with a dramatic sigh. There was a sudden crash and a shriek. Willow spun around to see a young woman standing in the middle of a circle of students.

"What's that all about?" Willow asked quietly. "I thought I read somewhere that there's no hazing on campus."

"There isn't," Anne said, an ugly expression on her face. "That girl lives in our building."

"She does?" Willow asked, watching as the circle pressed in on her. She shrieked again and Willow nearly jumped when she heard Anne's sharp laughter next to her.

"There's something you have to know about that one," Anne said, pointing at the girl with a look of disgust spreading across her face.

"What's so horrible that they have to scare her like that?" Willow asked defensively.

"She's a pagan," Anne said, as though the very word was an insult. "You know, she's a witch."

Willow drew in a sharp breath, but Anne didn't appear to have heard her. So, Anne was against witches. The girl currently being followed and mocked rudely was apparently also a witch. Before Willow knew what she was doing, she was stalking across the narrow road and practically jumping into the circle of students.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips, her schoolbag swinging onto her hip.

"Why don't you ask her?" one of the boys asked, pointing a rude finger at a tall, curvy blonde cowering near one of the benches. "Ask her and she'll do a Sabrina on you!"

"Don't you know that's a myth?" Willow asked, forcing herself to sound sympathetic. "I mean, really… witches? The next thing you'll tell me is that there are ghosts… and-and Slayers!"

The boy glared at her for a moment. "Fine," he said, smirking slightly. "Fine. But you know what they did to witches in the old days, mate? They burnt 'em."

"That's not what you'll be doing here," Willow said crossly. She was ready to show her own true colors if these boys didn't let up.

"Why don't we just leave her alone?" a pretty brunette asked. "We're asking for trouble anyways."

"I think that's a dandy idea, don't you?" Willow asked, turning to the girl standing behind her. The girl came forward slightly, looking up from under a curtain of dark blonde hair.

She had the softest eyes and the most pixie-like expression Willow had ever seen. The girl was obviously harmless.

"Go away," she said in a trembling voice. It was barely loud enough for Willow to hear, let alone the others.

"Did you hear what that witch said?" the girl asked with a shriek of laughter. "She told us to go away!"

"Why don't you listen to her, then?" Willow asked, turning around to glare at the girl. "To get to her, you'll have to come through me."

"Keep this up, and you'll be very lonely on this campus," the girl warned, her eyes narrowing. "Protecting witches got their companions flamed up in old times, too."

"How many humans had to die first because they kept doing the same shit you're doing?" Willow retorted. "Now, go, get out of here!"

Anne watched with quiet admiration as the group dissolved and headed in separate directions. She ran across the path to get to Willow, but the redhead wouldn't look at her. The tall blonde girl had suddenly collapsed on a bench, tears streaking down pale cheeks.

"I-I didn't know wh-what I was g-g-going to do if they k-k-kept ha-harassing me," she said, taking large gulps of air, her large blue eyes meeting Willow's soft brown gaze. "Th-Thank you."

"What are you doing?" Anne asked in an angry voice. "First you defend her and then you stay with her? Good luck trying to find any friends on this campus!" Turning her nose, Anne sped off in the same direction that some of the others had gone in.

The blonde watched as the redhead sighed, shrugging helplessly. "And here, it's only my first day."

Slowly, Willow looked down as she felt a damp hand touch her own.

"I'm sorry," the blonde stuttered, getting to her feet. "Y-You're not from En-England either?"

"California," Willow admitted.

"Connecticut," the blonde said with a pretty half-smile. "My m-m-mum was from h-here though, so I went to sch-school here…"

"I'm Willow," the redhead said, taking the blonde's hand and smiling at her. "Willow Rosenberg."

"My name is T-Tara Maclay," the girl said, giving her an impish grin behind the large tears still in her eyes.

"Okay, Tara," said Willow, releasing her hand quickly. "Where do I go to get myself orientated?"

"This way," Tara said, and together they moved along the path. But, in the distance, a pair of dark eyes watched their movements carefully.

They were only waiting, after all.

o-o

Faith and Cordelia arrived at Wesley's condominium mid-morning. They found the front door had been kicked open. Moving inside, Faith examined the fact that the entire living room had been ripped apart. Cordy, on the other hand, had seen the blood on the far wood paneling, her hand running along the entire extent before she pulled back, looking disgusted.

"Where is he?" Faith asked angrily, kicking over a broken chair before spying the telephone on the floor. The dial tone was beeping on the other end.

"Faith," Cordelia said, gesturing towards the hallway. Faith nodded and both women swept into the narrow corridor. The hallway was dark.

Both the bedroom and the bathroom appeared to be untouched. Cordelia could tell by the look on Faith's face that whatever this was wasn't good news.

As they moved back into the living area, Faith turned towards the kitchen. "Take that phone," she said quickly, "and call Angel. Let him know where we are and what's happened to Wesley. He should begin looking for him immediately."

"What about you?" Cordelia asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Just do it, okay?" Faith snapped before turning back, her eyes glowering. She heard Cordelia on the phone behind her as Faith walked around. She finally found what she was looking for. Checking to make sure that Cordy was still occupied on the phone, she bent down and pried open a locked cabinet door. Inside were a stack of papers and a narrow, flat box. Tucking the box into the interior pocket of her leather coat, Faith tucked the papers into the opposite pocket before getting to her feet.

Cordelia had just hung up the phone when she suddenly noticed a blinking green light on the opposite wall. "What's that?" she asked in a nervous voice.

Faith saw it just before it switched to red. "Run!" she shouted. She dove over the table, grabbing Cordelia's shirt just as the wall behind them began to explode. The force propelled them through the front window. As the shards of glass rained down around them, they landed hard in the crunching bushes.

"Whoa," Cordelia whispered, watching as smoke and flames shot through the open window. Another explosion sounded from inside.

"Yeah," Faith said, her eyes filled with anger. "Whoa."

"What was that?" Cordelia asked, awestruck.

"A message," Faith replied, angrily pushing herself off of the ground and dusting her hands on the fronts of her jeans. "I'm getting a little sick of this!" she shouted into the morning. "You can try and blow me up, but you'll never shut me up! Never! You'll have to kill me the old fashioned way!"

"Faith, what in the hell are you doing?" Cordelia asked, her face paling as she saw the anger written across Faith's.

"They killed Wesley, Cor… don't you understand anything?"

"How can we be certain he's really dead?"

"Did you see a body inside there?"

"Well, no, but that doesn't mean—" Cordelia began, but Faith was shaking her head.

"No, it means something," Faith replied. "If he isn't dead, then he's safe or else he'll be dead soon. You need to get to Los Angeles."

"What about you?"

"I have a little business to take care of," Faith said, angrily pushing her way through the bushes and heading for Angel's convertible. "They've pissed me off, now."

"The bad guys?" Cordelia asked in a small voice from behind her.

Faith practically pulled the door off of its hinges she was shaking so badly. "Not this time," she sighed.

o-o-o

Chapter 7… Buffy spends time trapped in her mind in a world where James and Lily are still alive. Faith makes the biggest decision of her life. Draco steps up his own plans, while the Death Eaters finally make their move.

Chapter 8… Faith makes a startling discovery about Buffy's newest dreams and realizes that someone or something may be messing with time. The new DADA professor isn't exactly what she seems to be… so why in the heck did Dumbledore hire her for their final year? Hermione is given the chance of a lifetime, but it may mean a huge sacrifice on her part. The seventh years go through their final career counseling.

o-o-o

**Chapter Notes**

I really love the alternate-reality chapters. I had two in the last story, where the past is delved into and there is much pain and suffering. That's just your little warning for the next chapter!

I am so unbelievably sorry that it took me two months to get this chapter posted. It took me forever to figure out which direction I wanted to go. I really want to finish this story and therefore and working hard on revamping the outline slightly. I do want to post a chapter per week, but that's a bit optimistic. I promise three updates a month at the very least. I'm aiming for a June finish now. I have been writing Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossovers for a year now… can you believe it? I've only finished two stories as it is… oi!

I know this chapter wasn't nearly as long as some others. I'm trying to shorten them slightly as the chapters from the beginning part of the story were obnoxiously long… as in twenty five pages or more. This one had between fourteen and fifteen… that's a comfortable length. There is still a lot of story to tell.

**Reviewer Comments**

You all have such fabulous ideas on how this story should flow! I might have to make use of some of them because some might actually work. My beta-reader and I were discussing different ways the plot could twist, and these ideas would certainly add to this story. Currently, it's planned at 25 chapters. It may or may not grow, depending on how long the chapters get. There are some two-part chapters coming again.

But first, to the comments…

**Sparky24: **It's really hard to stay original when there are far too many fabulous stories out there. Thank you so much for your comments! Yes, Giles is alive and well. I figured Buffy could use a Watcher or an English-speaking person right about now.

**Naitch03:** You're right about one thing… if Harry were to die, he could come back ala Buffy. As for Buffy getting poisoned, it wasn't intentional. It just happens when you're in a foreign country and you ingest something foreign in nature, you tend to get sick. And, no, I don't think Harry was too insulted about the Ravenclaw's comment. I think that it was mere surprise on that part. I won't even begin to say how the Slytherins are carrying on. As for Wes carrying on, he always had a way with words. He's lost his entire family (even if he didn't like them) and he knows how much Harry means to these people, hence the "AAAAH" factor. And, as for Wes dying or potentially disappearing, it's always good to have a Slayer on your side.

**General Mac: **okay.

**Maleficus Lupinus: **See, I'm usually one to see Harry survive to the end of all things, but I'm not really sure that's what J.K. is going for. That prophecy may have been well-written in the fifth book, but it leaves a lot of unknown questions. I'm perfectly happy to let Harry live out the end. On the other hand, he can always come back. I'm not really torn about it, it's just deciding which way to take a story already planned through to the end… and yeah, it gets confusing. Giles was always a surprise for me, and I think he'll continue to surprise to the end… but that's just our Giles.

**StrawberryChild: **Or… "He's dead." The end. I don't think I could do it that way, but honestly… it would be an interesting take on the entire story. But… in the end, there can only be one choice. Maybe. This is one of those things I was talking about up there… you give me good ideas, and I think "hmmm". It's not always a good thing.

**Lightdemondarkangel:** It really wasn't that much of a cliffhanger, I swear! I just ended it there because it felt like I should end it there. Willow and her magicks will eventually be involved, but to the level of your thinking? I'm not sure… it would be awesome to see the white-power compared to the darker powers carried by both Buffy and Faith – despite the fact that Faith is a squib.

**The Lady Morgaine: **Wow, thank you! The Spike-Buffy relationship was something I really, really liked in certain stories (for example, anything by Kallysten, which is the reason why I joined this site in the first place). Faith and Spike will not have a relationship other than the current one they have now. He doesn't love her and she's sort of hooked on another person. As for Tara, I adore her character (I loved her so much I brought her back in my other series), but adding her to the story might be iffy. I do have an idea though, and I'll see if I can work it in.

**Chazza: **Why, thank you :)

**DarkAngelMali: **I know it's been almost forever since I have updated, so I apologize profusely. I promise to update on a more regular basis from now on! Spuffy was the first pairing I ever read - thank Kallysten for that… considering her stories got me involved on this site in the first place. I was open to try something new, and it was Grace who convinced me a B/O might be a different direction. The couple will be together again… someday. Maybe. Hopefully.

**Callie****River**I will, I will, I promise.

**Smurfinator: **Lily and James are acting weird because they aren't Lily and James… not really, anyway. The next chapter should clarify that a bit. Xander will be back in the story dubbed in the Faith storyline. I'm not going to put them together considering she obviously has feelings for Harry, but he gets involved in Sunnydale in a _big _way. As for Faith and Buffy turning evil, I will only say this: the Dark Mark sort of reversed their dark side. They may be marked, but they _want _to stay good. It'll factor in later.

**Lady Mione: **I am so sorry for not posting. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I do promise a lot of excitement in the future!

**Electric Pancake: **I am using my own experiences to explain cooking fires and making bread. I had a horrible camping experience when I was seventeen and hoped to pass that along to this story. We had to carry canoes and such between portages and were walking in cranberry bogs… one of my old hockey teammates ended up falling through. It was kind of funny in a really ironic sort of way. My dinner ended up being thrown into the lake by accident (a loon was attacking my "partner's" baseball cap so he threw my tinfoil dinner at it) so… that's just the tip of the iceberg. The Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness… a beautiful area I really hope I don't have to visit again with people like them! I'm glad you liked such a pretty chapter… the next few aren't going to be so pretty, sadly enough. Oh, and as for the Giles comment, I think it was supposed to be separate from your note, unless I was trying to make a point... I don't remember.

**Anne: **I'm sorry! It's been taking me forever to get the time to write this chapter out. I finally had nine pages and considered ending it there but no… my beta pushed me on. She had this thing read in all of one night, too.

Lastly, my other stories will be updated before my "vacation" begins next Monday. I wanted to get this done before I left with a guilty conscience. My vacation actually consists of tests I need to take to keep my nice government job, but well worth it considering I get to stay by myself in a nice hotel in a pretty city for three days... or not.


	7. Three Steps Back

**_Author's Note_**_: there is absolutely no excuse for six months hiatus except new job, new life, new house, new responsibilities and new just about everything else. Unlike the previous story, which was updated sometimes four times a week, this one has taken a slower turn. Alas, I will strive to continue on, disregarding the "Half-Blood Prince" for the most part. I wish I didn't have to, but this story was planned out a long time ago… it would be futile to add anything in, but some themes from that book will become apparent. Anyway, my apologies for the long delay. I promise faster updates because I do want to finish this story._

**_Recap_**_: For those of you who haven't read this story or its predecessor lately, here's a quick summary – Buffy was hired as a vampire hunter in Bulgaria; Harry, Ron and Hermione just began their 7th year at Hogwarts, Faith is still in California searching for the missing Wesley; Giles joined Buffy in Bulgaria but locked heads with her new Ministry-assigned Watcher, Mrs. Ironton._

**_Chapter Summary_**_: Buffy clashes with her new Ministry-assigned Slay-group; Faith makes a decision that may change her future; Draco puts his plan in motion;_

**Chapter 7**

**Three Steps Back**

x-x-x-x

Buffy purposely showed up for her sundown patrol five minutes late. She knew that it would probably make Giles mad, but that wasn't the desired effect she was going for. Mrs. Ironton was really pressing on her last nerve and her intentions were pretty clear the instant the two made eye contact on the front porch. Dressed in her long-sleeved black top and shiny black pants, Buffy felt like an undercover special agent rather than a Slayer. Both Kris and Tomas stood behind their Watcher, looking like overgrown vines with their camouflage-green uniforms and matching scowls. Giles looked rather comfortable in his light-weight khakis and a button-down short-sleeved top. Mrs. Ironton looked like a giant iron peg with her dark grey suit complete with four-inch heels. Buffy glanced down at her own heels peeking from beneath the hem of her black pants. At least she could still add her own unique touch to this whole spiel.

"You're late," Mrs. Ironton said, as though proclaiming Buffy's death sentence.

"Five minutes even," Buffy said cheerfully, coming to a stop next to Giles. The older man acknowledged her with a nod.

Mrs. Ironton glanced up at her with those cold blue eyes. "I specifically asked you to be here by seventeen forty hours," she said crisply. "Because of this, we have to alter my routine for this evening."

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Your routine?"

"I planned a two hour exercise to judge you by your proficiency, Miss Summers," Mrs. Ironton replied archly. "Perhaps you would care to begin and explain to us what you do to prepare for an evening of Slaying."

"Oh, sure," Buffy said, leaning back and folding her arms. "Let's see… I go out at sundown with my stake and patrol graveyards."

"Aside from your vague details, you are partially correct. You do leave prior to sunset and you do go out at all times with your weapons. For example, the stake. Tomas?"

Buffy was then privileged to a half-hour lecture of different weapons used for different types of attacks at different times of night. She found herself nodding off, her head on Giles's arm. He nudged her as soon as Mrs. Ironton signaled Tomas to put away his crossbow. Blinking, she gave Giles an annoyed look before turning back to Mrs. Ironton. They were staring at her again. Shifting under the rather intense visual scrutiny, she waited for the hatchet to drop. Luckily, Mrs. Ironton didn't bring it up.

"Now, Buffy… you will go out with Kristofer and Tomas. I wish for you to stick together. Mr. Giles and I will remain here. Report back in exactly ninety minutes with your progress, your tactics and your proper use of teamwork as I have spent the past twenty minutes describing."

Trudging off down the trail followed by both of her so-called teammates, they continued on even as dusk began to settle. It was still ungodly humid and the air was difficult to breathe as it was. Wearing layers of clothing that was anything but tactful in this jungle, she was not comfortable to say the least. The one thing that cheered her up was the fact that they might actually find a vampire here and she would finally be able to see how competent a level two vampire hunter was.

Luckily for them, she soon sensed the danger fast approaching. She paused, causing Tomas to run into her and neatly plow her into a rather large tree. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said hastily, taking her by the arm and attempting to haul her up.

"You moron," she spat, pushing him away as she got back to her feet. "That's some left feet you possess, there. If you keep on going like this, you're gonna get us all killed."

Tomas looked rather taken aback as she stalked past him. She heard Kris mutter something behind her. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered overhearing, but she knew that he was trying not to be heard. He just underestimated her Slayer hearing. She turned and gave him a bright, flashy smile and nearly laughed at the sight of the flush that crept over his pale face. Well, he did have _that _coming. The only problem was, she had that tingling sensation she felt when something dangerous was near. Slipping her hand into the hem of her pants, she withdrew her stake and continued moving. Slowly, stealthy. That was the only way to do her job. That was the way she practically patented her job.

She heard a clumsy rustle behind her and turned to see Tomas attempting to help Kris slip an arrow into a crossbow. Shaking her head, she continued on, disappearing into the thick forest without them. She didn't need them. They were just going to slow her down or, worse, get her killed.

"I think what you are doing is rather obnoxious," Giles muttered as Irene Ironton swept back to the house, her shoes clicking on the rickety porch.

"I must attempt to make amends on your poor progress," Irene said coldly, looking down her nose at the taller man. "You obviously did not attempt to hone in her skills to perfection. In order to do so, specific steps must be taken to ensure that—"

"You just want to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone else," Giles muttered, folding his arms and trying to mimic Irene's stony face. "Need I remind you that while your two so-called pupils have been learning the craft, she was the true chosen one."

"Hmm, no," Irene sarcastically replied. "I am well aware of her calling, Rupert. Perhaps you too should have known this calling. She is the sister to the one hope of the Wizarding world and she acts like a loose cannon."

"That's not Buffy," Giles said, feeling the need to defend his Slayer. "She was never a loose cannon. You just have to know her to understand her."

"And do you know Miss Summers, Rupert?" she asked kindly, her lips twisting into a sardonic smile. "I hardly thought that _you _would ever admit to knowing what is best for a teenage girl. You, with your tweed jackets and your out-of-fashion bifocals? You would hardly know where to begin with disciplining a young woman with skills such as those of your _former_ charge."

He wanted to despise her for these rather under-the-belt insults. Yet, she was partially right. Buffy was a teenage girl with different thoughts of reality than what he had faced. Then there was the fact that she was still his former charge.

"I rest my case," she smirked, turning her shoulder and marching away, believing her case to be victory.

But Giles wasn't about to give up that easily. He was just going to wait for the right time to prove Irene wrong. She was going to be very wrong when Buffy started showing her what a Slayer really was. This woman was worse than Wesley. He might have been wet behind the ears, but he wasn't ignorant or over-confident. In fact, Giles thought sadly, Wesley's only fault was the fact that he had chosen the wrong Slayer.

In the forest, Buffy had stopped behind a tree she knew was large enough to shield her from the eyes of the rustling bushes a few dozen feet behind her. Slowly moving her head, she glimpsed two heads bobbing above the foliage. Grinning, she held her stake under her chin and soundlessly pulled herself around the tree. Her feet moved purposefully and without making a sound. She drew her stake to her shoulder and pushed a few lighter branches aside, ducking beneath them. On the other side was a clearing. There were knee-high grasses and some strange purple wildflower blowing in the damp breeze. Straightening, she stepped to the edge of the clearing before glancing left and right. There wasn't anything. There was no one there. But she knew that they were watching her. She saw her quick exit and took it. The moment she left the clearing, she heard the snarling. Smirking, she turned and planted her stake in the heart of the first vampire. He was dust before the other two could even react. The moment they saw the vampire swirl away into nothingness, they turned and growled at her.

"No one gets away with that," one said in a thick Bulgarian accent.

"Oh, but no one is me," Buffy said sweetly, twirling her stake idly in her hand. "Want to volunteer to be the second?"

They both sprang at the same time. Buffy took the moves in stride, kicking one aside and throwing the other into the bushes. The first came back and knocked into her, sending them both tumbling through the bushes and down a small hill towards a babbling brook. Once she'd thrown the vampire off and regained her footing, she recovered her stake as he pounced again. "Strike me once," she snapped, kicking him clear into the brook as she took a few steps up. The vampire stood up, pushing sopping hair from his face and baring those oversized teeth. "It's time to shame on you. Strike me twice and, well, you die."

He charged her again, but this time she managed to stake him. His running form slowly disintegrated into dust and filtered away.

"Hmm, I still got it," she said cheerfully, turning to head back towards the hill. The third vampire was standing there, glaring at her. "Did you want a go, or did you just want to run?"

"Who are you?" he asked thickly.

"You honestly don't know?" she asked, sounding delighted.

"It has been awhile since we have found someone worth killing," he scowled. "The ones she sends to us go back with their heads on sticks. Of course, we eat some." He gave her a long look, one that sent a little chill up her spine. It was a hungry look, a look that easily spoke of his desire to do her in. "It does not stop her from sending more to us. We have thrived for years under that woman's stupidity. But you're different. You fought back."

Buffy was so befuddled she could barely begin to register what he told her. All she knew was that she wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. As the third vampire sauntered towards her, she took him in a single thrust. His smirking face fell as he melted away, but his last words rang like bells in her ears. "Cheater."

"Oh, and by the way," she said, watching as his amber eyes lifted to meet hers, "I'm Buffy, the vampire Slayer. We haven't met and the whole bad boy act? Been there, seen that… pick a new one."

Then he was dead and she knew her quip was already forgotten. Her tingling sense was still on alert, but she knew she was alone in this area.

She let out a long pent-up breath. What was he talking about? Was Mrs. Ironton, her horrible Ministry-appointed Watcher, some sort of vampire feeder? Had she sent people into this forest to get slaughtered by some vampire army she didn't know existed? And were they truly just picked up off of the street and sent into the forest with no chance whatsoever?

As she made her way through the woods, she was seeing red. It was time to demand the truth from this woman. She knew she had only been gone for twenty minutes at most, but suddenly she felt the need to pummel every single inch of that Iron woman's face.

She stepped into the clearing when she found her tingling sense overwhelm her. It wasn't a bad vibe, but it wasn't good either. Something prickled on her left arm and she unconsciously reached over and covered it. It was as though something was going on far, far away and there was nothing she could do to help. If Harry was in trouble, well… she would know it. It wasn't Harry. It was something else.

She took another step. There was suddenly a yell as two figures jumped out of the bushes, one handling a crossbow. Buffy's eyes widened as Tomas fired the bolt. She leapt aside, but the dart hit her side. She landed hard in the bushes. Immediately, they both charged forward. "Buffy!" Tomas cried, his face white. "My God… what have I done?"

"You… stupid… idiot," she moaned, crying out slightly as she pulled the dart from her hip. "What the hell was that?"

"Ve thought you vere a vampire," Kris said apologetically, taking her arm and tugging her upwards. Once on her feet, she straightened up, but immediately fell to the side, stumbling.

"What… what was in that thing?" she asked, staring at the dart now lying on the ground, the black tip stained red.

"There was some sort of poison," Tomas said, lifting the arrow and staring at it. "Irene told us…"

"You… you poisoned me?" she snapped, spinning around to face Tomas, her eyes furious.

"It vas in self-defense," Kris offered, looking startled at her behavior.

"I am going to kick your ass," she said, taking another few steps forward in an attempt to regain her balance. Noticing she was covered in tiny green leaves and small red branches, she glared at Tomas with clenched fists before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell to the side. Kris managed to catch her before she fell into the bushes again.

"Vat have you done?" Kris asked a pale Tomas, who looked as though he were ready to pass out at any moment.

"I… I thought she was a vampire," Tomas replied in a hollow tone.

"We must get her back to Mister Giles and Mrs. Ironton, don't you think?" Kris asked nervously.

Tomas nodded and set the crossbow aside, looking as though he'd rather string himself up by those coarse strings than take the unconscious girl back to their employer. "What will we tell them?"

"We vill tell them that she fell," Kris said with a firm nod as they both lifted the woman. Kris held her by the feet while Tomas held her shoulders.

"She is quite heavy for being so… small," Tomas said, brushing bits of brush from her still form. "She will not be happy when she awakens."

"She vill likely tell them that ve had something to do with this," Kris replied darkly as they started to carry her down the path back towards the house.

"We did have something to do with this," Tomas snapped as they began marching up the hill. "She looked like a vampire in all that black."

"Rupert Giles vill not be pleased," Kris predicted in his best doomsday voice as the house came into view.

"I wonder if she killed anything," Tomas said quietly, looking down at her pleasant face. When she wasn't yelling or fighting them, she was really quite pretty. "That would cheer them up."

"Ve can awaken her and ask," Kris muttered. Both Mrs. Ironton and Mr. Giles were approaching them now from the main path. Mrs. Ironton looked mortified and Mr. Giles looked, well, irate. They hadn't seen a different reaction on his face since they'd met him.

"What on earth," Giles said, moving to take his charge from the two young men, who happily let him take her. Cradling her, he felt her neck and was pleased to hear the strong, steady pulse. "What happened?"

"This is my inquisition, Rupert," Mrs. Ironton said, her voice very stiff and rather frigid. Turning, she faced the two young men, who exchanged a glance and visibly gulped. "What happened to Miss Summers?"

"He shot her," Kris said, holding out a long arm and pointing to Tomas. "He had the crossbow."

"You _shot _her?" Giles asked, underlying anger in each syllable.

"I did not mean to," Tomas said, shaking his head with wide eyes. "She came out of nowhere! We thought she was a vampire!"

"That would explain the blood," Giles said in an angry voice. "Now will you explain why she's unconscious?"

"The crossbow's darts contained a viable solution pertinent in containing a vampire for questioning," Mrs. Ironton said, turning to face Rupert.

"Oh, and you were going to inform me of this?" he asked in a pleasant voice. But Mrs. Ironton silently shivered when she saw the chill in his dark eyes.

"There was no intention in my mind to inform you of anything other than that of your charge," Irene said coldly. "You knew all that you needed to know."

"Well, when your stupid charge poisons mine, it becomes my business," he said through gritted teeth. "She was likely out there doing her job and those two idiots were there slowing her down."

"Patience, patience, Rupert," she said with that smile of hers. "We will get to the bottom of what truly happened."

"What bothers me the most is that you wanted to poison a vampire to what… teach him to dance?" he asked quietly.

Mrs. Ironton froze and slowly turned around to face him. "Oh, Rupert," she said, her eyes hardening. "You have no idea what you have just implied."

"Those darts contained poison," he retorted. "I was just wondering why you wanted those vampires alive. She is a Slayer and your team was brought here to kill vampires, was it not?"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Somewhere, somehow, this story doesn't quite fit," he deduced, watching as her eyes narrowed. For some reason, he felt like smiling. So he did. "I would very much like the truth, Irene."

"The truth is better reserved for another time," she said quietly, turning to look at the still figure in his arms. "We must help her first before the poison overwhelms her system."

"You will touch her," Giles said, turning away. Buffy's body was still limp in his arms. "If you do, I will kill you myself."

Mrs. Ironton placed her hands on her bony hips. "If I do not help her, she will die."

"You underestimate her," he snapped.

Kris and Tomas just watched as their two leaders argued back and forth before exchanging a long glance.

"Mister Giles, it vould not hurt if she took a look at her, vould it?" Kris asked tentatively.

"I'm not through with you two yet," he snarled.

Tomas jumped as though he'd been burned. Even Kris looked terrified. Apparently this wuss in tweed was more formidable than Mrs. Ironton had told them.

"For all I know, you wanted her to get poisoned," Giles said, keeping his back to the other woman. "Perhaps when your Ministry finds out you failed to kill her, they'll send someone else to do it for you."

Mrs. Ironton's face lost all of its color. "Why would I want to kill the one person who could make a difference here?"

"Because she threatens all that you've worked for," Giles slammed back, gently setting Buffy down on a small table under the porch roof. "She carries a Dark Mark and is basically the one thing your stupid Ministry wants stamped out. They sent her to the one place she couldn't hurt anyone and after five minutes out with your so-called vampire hunters, she's attacked by them."

"They are genuinely sorry for what they have done," Irene relented. "Please, Rupert… let me help her."

Giles walked downstairs, his eyes never leaving her face. As soon as he passed her side, his hand went and grasped her elbow. She gasped at the firm hold and attempted to break free from it, but was not able to. "If I find out that you have done more harm than good, I will kill you," he whispered into her ear. "And that, dear Irene, is a promise I intend to keep."

He released her arm and slowly turned to face the two pale boys who looked about three inches tall to him. "And you two… you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Are you or are you not level two vampire hunters? You should be able to tell the difference between the living undead and a nineteen-year-old blonde. It's a pity that you're as thick as syrup… there was some hope for you."

They just watched as he stalked past them, heading into the darkness.

"Should ve follow him?" Kris asked, suddenly sounding alarmed.

"No," Irene said, coming between them with crossed arms. "Let him go… he can take care of himself."

x-x-x-x

"Faith, talk to me. You're not making any sense."

"I'm not in the mood to talk, Cor."

Cordelia sat at Joyce Summers' dining room table watching as Faith sat there, staring at the table while idly stirring tea. Her face wore a gloomy expression and she wasn't acting very peppy, as Cordelia would say she was famous for. Ever since they had stopped investigating Wesley's disappearance, they had driven back to Sunnydale and had been holed up in this house since. Cordy wanted to do something other than sit there and watch the other Slayer sit and mope. Well, she wanted to be back in Los Angeles because it was certainly more cheerful than here. But Faith needed someone now. She really did. She wanted to confide in someone other than a Sunnydale Scooby. She had a great desire to talk to her brother. Though they didn't see eye to eye, she felt the need to say _something_.

"If you don't want to talk—"

"Go."

"What?"

"If you don't want to see me sit here and think, then go."

"But I said I wouldn't leave you."

"You're not leaving me. I'm telling you to go away."

"Can you do that?"

"I can kick your ass if you want me to."

"Faith…"

"Look, will you just go? I'm not in the mood for someone to sit there and criticize me. Just get over it, Faith," she said, mimicking Cordelia's whiniest tone. "Just move on, Faith. Well," she said in her normal tone. "Forget it. I can't move on and I'm not getting over it. The good guys just keep pushing my buttons. Instead of asking me to do the dirty work, they poke around in my business, taking away everyone that ever meant a damn. I can't begin to stress how much I hate this right now. If I was over there, I would be able to do something instead of just chase ghosts and try to figure out why the hell they're doing this. Kidnapping Wes is one thing, but making it look like the bad guys did it? That's too professional, even for them. Someone's behind him going. I'm going to find out who it is. I _have _to find out who it is."

Cordelia was staring at Faith as the Slayer pounded a small fist on the dark wood before leaning back, crossing her arms and scowling at the table again.

"Did you want me to leave?" Cordelia asked sweetly.

"Yeah, beat it," Faith shrugged. "I'm not much for company right now."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and left the room, her empty mug in her hand. Faith waited for her to go before dropping her head onto her arms.

"Faith?"

"Whatever."

"What?"

"I said whatever," Faith said, looking up to see Cordelia tentatively approaching her. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say that if you wanted someone to talk to, well… I know that I'm not important enough in whichever life you think you belong to... but can't you go back? Can't you just say 'to hell with it' and hop on a plane and go?"

"If only things were that simple," Faith sighed. "You have no idea how much I'd rather be there than here."

"Because of Buffy, right?" Cordelia asked carefully.

"It's not because of her," Faith said, shaking her head. "Well, it's not _all _because of her. There are others…"

"Your brother?"

"Well, he's one of the others. I'm thinking about—"

"It's that Harry person isn't it?"

Faith looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

"Harry Potter, Buffy's brother. I know I didn't say anything when they were in California, but it's just obvious that there was some sort of click between you. I've never seen you offer to sleep with a guy and not get, well… pelvic."

Faith's face was rapidly reddening. "I beg your pardon?"

"You miss him."

"Maybe I do."

"I'm sorry."

"I…" Faith had been about to tell her off for apologizing again, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. "I kind of miss them all."

"Faith, listen to me," Cordelia said, approaching her as though drawing courage. "You may think that the Hellmouth needs protecting, but its okay. We're here to take care of things. We don't need a Slayer whose heart just isn't in it. It is obvious that you are needed there. It is really nice having you back and all, but after watching you these past few days… you need to be there. Something big is about to happen and the good guys need their girl. Buffy isn't there for them now. But you are. You can be the star in the role, Faith. You just have to take it."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Faith mumbled, looking away.

"I think you do," Cordelia said gently. "You've always played the second role. You've always been the one behind her. What if you took lead? You're here because a bunch of guys with magic wands don't trust you to do your job. I think it's time you prove them wrong. You keep saying that the good guys do things here without you knowing it? What would they do if you went back to London and started shaking things up there?"

"I don't know what would happen," Faith admitted. "But I do know where I'm needed. And there's something…" Her voice trailed off as she suddenly looked at her left arm. Her mark was tingling beneath her leather jacket. "Something big is happening," she whispered. "There are more important things than me and Buffy now. There are bad things out there that could potentially end the world. It's time that we fulfill whatever destiny is in store for us."

"I like it when you think," Cordelia said with a slight smile. "You're not wrong, you know,"

"No, I know I'm right," Faith said, massaging her left arm. "I just… I feel like I'm about three steps behind everyone else, you know? I'm just so far away."

"It's time to become not so far away," Cordelia grinned. "I'll take care of things here. You need to go where you're needed."

"I'll think about it," Faith replied.

"Don't think too hard," Cordelia replied, standing up. "There's a red eye to Boston at 6:30 tomorrow morning. Maybe you'll think about it on the way to Boston?"

"Maybe."

Faith watched as Cordelia collected her coat and bag and left, after telling Joyce where she was going. She waited until she heard Joyce's footsteps above her head before moving from the dining room into the living room. The fireplace was silent as always, but Faith still had her packet of emergency Floo powder. It was a real shame she didn't really understand how it worked.

She tossed the entire packet inside. Watching the green flames spring to life, she stuck her head inside, whispered "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place" and suddenly felt the world spin around her. When at last she saw the bottom of two very ornate dining room chairs, she knew she found the right place.

"Sirius!" she shouted out. "Sirius!"

There was nothing but silence.

"Anyone?"

"What in blazes…" she heard an older voice say.

Faith blinked and turned her revolving, flaming head over to see a figure swoop down upon her.

"Delita?"

"If you call me that again, I'll come through the fireplace and stuff your head inside it," she growled.

"I'm sorry," Remus Lupin said, watching as she blinked benignly at him. "You're looking for Sirius?"

"Obviously," she muttered.

"I'll be right back," he said, looking as though he wanted to say something else. Faith waited as he dashed off, presumably to find Sirius. She instead took a moment to glance around the room. The first thing she noticed was the buildup of several stacks of dirty dishes. She frowned and wrinkled her nose in disgust. If she had been able to smell the room, she was sure to be gagging. She could swear she saw flies buzzing around a few bowls with crusty, dried-up food stuck on the edges…

"Faith?"

"Sirius," she said, swinging her gaze to look at her older brother. She was slightly alarmed in his appearance and nearly backed out of the fireplace. Her knees were starting to cramp up as the brick base was quite uncomfortable to lean on. "Hi."

"Hello," he said, bending down so that they were face to face. "You called?"

"I'm just checking in," she said lightly. "You know, I want to hear how things are going."

Sirius frowned and glanced behind him, as though checking to see if someone was there. Shaking his head, he glanced at his baby sister. "There's nothing much going on," he replied. "Things are calm for the moment, anyway."

"But things weren't calm?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

Sirius looked puzzled as he shook his head. "Things haven't been as calm as they were when you were here," he replied cryptically.

Faith tried to glance over his shoulder. "Is someone there?"

"Molly," he muttered.

"Ah."

He waited a few seconds before the sound of footsteps dissipated. "What happened?" she asked.

"Harry… he…"

"Sirius, please," Faith said, imploring him with her hard gaze. "I don't want to pretend that everything is fine. My arm stings day after day as a reminder of how un-fine everything is."

Sirius frowned again. "Harry's aunt and uncle are dead," he blurted out.

Faith was silent, allowing him to continue.

"His aunt was murdered in her home… obviously a reminder that he-who-must-not-be-named remains a power and knows more than some think," Sirius continued. "His cousin was left for dumb, but his uncle was taken. He found his finger…"

Faith felt her stomach turned over, but forced herself to remain calm. "Go on," she urged quietly.

"That was a few days ago," Sirius replied in a low voice. "Obviously his uncle was tortured, but that's all I know. Harry sent me a letter that very afternoon. He was worried because Buffy was far away, but he feels that she's safe."

"She is safe," Faith nodded. "Giles is with her."

"The same Giles that stayed here last year?" Sirius questioned.

"The one and the same," Faith said, grinning. "He'll keep her safe. At the very least, he'll keep her temper in check so she doesn't blow another gasket and go off killing Death Eaters, God forbid."

"You have not changed at all, have you?" Sirius asked, smiling affectionately at the head bobbing in his fireplace. "We miss you, you know. Harry even wrote that he misses you, too."

"He does?" Faith asked in a small voice. "I miss you guys too… I didn't think I would, but I tend to get attached easily to the things I can't have."

"Blimey, Faith," Sirius said, reaching out to touch her head, but thinking better of it, "you shouldn't worry about us. We can take care of our own, here."

"If you need anything, you know where to find me," she said glumly.

"Faith, don't do this."

"I can't help it," she said, feeling her throat constrict. "I just feel so far away…"

"I wish we could have you back, but it isn't possible," Sirius said, looking uneasy. "If you did come back, the ramifications would be enormous."

Faith dropped the self-pity act instantly and glared up at her brother. "Just because they don't trust her doesn't mean that I don't trust them," she said coldly. "We're not bad people, Sirius. We know what to do and we know what we have to do. That was never an issue."

"The issue is the dark magic you both obviously carry," Sirius argued.

"And what if I don't care?" she demanded. "What if I'm willing to take the risk and come back home? Buffy went to England because she found out it was her home. The made me go back here because they didn't think I was fit enough for their pure-ass royal blood? Why am I even here? They don't need a Slayer here. I'm needed there."

"Faith, if you come back, there's a very good chance that whatever he-who-must-not-be-named is planning, it involves the Slayers," Sirius said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you come back, you could be walking into a death trap."

Faith glanced down. "I know," she whispered. "But I have to try. I have to do something. I feel so… so helpless here!"

"You're not helpless," Sirius said, giving her an affectionate look. "You're just… on the sidelines."

"Slayers aren't sideline girls, Sirius. We're not supposed to fail. We're supposed to do what our destiny tells us to do and every fiber of my being is telling me that I should in England now."

"If you come back, the Ministry could arrest you again," Sirius said, an anxious look falling across his face.

"I guess that's the chance I'll have to take," Faith replied, turning to look behind her. A moment later, she turned back. "I have to go."

"Faith…"

"Thanks for the talk, big bro… I think you told me all I needed to know to make up my mind."

"Faith…" Sirius tried again.

"I have to go," she repeated, looking up at him, a slight smile coming across her face. "See you soon."

"Faith?" he asked, but before he could even begin to counteract her words, her head was gone. "For crying out loud," he moaned, watching as the fireplace fell silent. What had he just done?

"I'm sorry about that, Joyce," Faith said, rocking onto her bottom as she massaged her sore knees. "I just had to speak to my brother."

"Of course," Joyce said, giving Faith a strange look as she set her coffee cup down. "I'm going to the gallery."

"Okay," Faith said, frowning.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm okay," Faith said, tilting her head as she regarded the older woman. "I know I don't look it, but I think I'm going to be okay."

"Did you hear anything about Buffy?" Joyce asked anxiously.

"I intend to find out soon enough," Faith promised her. She stood up, her knees cracking. Joyce was already pulling on her coat when Faith met her in the entry way. "Um, Joyce?"

Joyce's arms fell to her sides. "You're going back, aren't you?"

"I can't hide forever."

"I knew you would go back sooner or later," Joyce said, turning to Faith with a sad smile. "I knew that someone would want you back there."

"They don't," Faith deadpanned. "They want me here. But I don't want me here. I want to be there. They need me. You're doing just fine without a Slayer in the house."

Joyce nodded, biting her lip. "I just wish…"

"We'll get her back, Joyce," Faith said, reaching over and tapping Joyce's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "I'm going to go and find her and make sure she's okay. And then I'm going to bring her home for you."

"When are you leaving?"

"There's a red eye that leaves at 6:30 tomorrow morning," Faith said, confidence returning to her voice. Joyce gave her another watery smile before leaning over and hugging the dark-haired girl.

"When you told me about your family history, I always thought that you hadn't needed to. You were always my second daughter, you know."

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. S."

"You're welcome, Faith."

x-x-x-x

Sirius was frowning as he walked upstairs into the drawing room. Remus Lupin stood just inside, with Tonks and an injured Emmeline Vance. Her daughter, Emma, was sitting on the couch next to Hestia Jones.

"What did you tell her?" Remus asked him anxiously.

"I didn't," Sirius replied heavily. "She'll figure it out when she gets here."

"She's coming back?" Emma asked in a stunned voice.

"We don't have much of a choice," Sirius replied angrily. "I can't talk her out of anything. She's just like Buffy."

"They are both stubborn as hell," Emma replied, rolling her eyes. "Should we let Harry know she's coming back?"

"Why?" Remus and Sirius asked at the same time. "If we did that," Remus continued solely as he sat on the opposite side of the younger woman, "it might alarm some people we'd rather keep in the cold."

"I see," Emma said softly. "So we should leave Harry in the dark about someone considered to be one of his worst adversaries is coming back to England?"

"She's not his enemy," Remus said in a tired voice.

"She's wearing the Dark Mark," Emma replied in a heated tone.

"Not only that," Tonks interjected, her blue eyes burning, "but at the drop of a pin could you-know-who control her. She could kill him, Remus."

"I know this," Remus said quietly.

"She knows it too," Sirius replied. "But, like you said, she's stubborn as hell."

"They both are," Emma said fondly.

x-x-x-x

Harry set down his quill and stared at the drying ink on his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. The title read 'Ten Ways to Kill a Vampire' and had been underlined. Of course, his first bullet point read 'just ask my sister to do it'. Hermione had objected at this, and Harry had added his bit about the vampire Slayers and their defense against vampires. He had a feeling that very few students would actually know that. Ron, of course, had copied it off of his essay, much to Hermione's displeasure.

"Well, I'm glad that's over with," Ron said, blowing across his parchment as Hermione sniffed in the chair next to him.

"If you had done your work on your own as we were told, then you wouldn't have been saving the essay until the last minute, would you?" she asked blithely as she gazed back down at a thick novel she was reading for Ancient Runes.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron grumbled, staring at the parchment before shifting his focus to the mountain of Potions work still remaining. "Maybe we could hold this off till tomorrow, no?"

"We should get to it tonight," Harry replied, pulling the Potions text into his lap and taking out the random pages he'd stuck in to mark their assignment. "Snape will be furious if we don't get the first assignment done."

"Two feet of parchment on the history of dark potions?" Ron asked, running a hand through his flame-colored hair. "Blimey, he's not too choosy on his assignments, is he?"

Hermione, who had completed the essay during their first study break that afternoon, gave another small sigh as she turned a page.

"Would you like to say something?" Harry asked her as he smoothed out another sheet of blank parchment.

"We really should be patrolling the halls," she said cheerfully, sticking in a bookmark to mark her spot and closing the book. "You are, after all, Head Boy. And I am Head Girl."

Harry glanced down at the assignment written on a sheet of paper and decided that he would much rather walk around the hallways and yell at the younger students than tackle one of Snape's nastiest assignments yet. "All right," he said, setting the book aside. "Let's go."

They started out pleasantly enough. They weren't speaking, but checking the corridors and all the usual hiding places for culprits that liked lurking in the darkness.

"Your map would have been a big help," Hermione said after a few moments of separate checking of the different bathrooms near the empty classrooms.

"It would have been a help," Harry said darkly.

"You know, I have been wanting to talk to you for awhile now," Hermione began awkwardly. "I know things haven't been very, well… cordial between us."

"I don't see why not," Harry replied.

"Harry, please," Hermione said, taking a few hurried steps to catch up to him. "I know things have been tense. But it isn't my fault and I don't think it is yours, either."

"Well, you do know more than me," Harry joked. He heard her stop and spun around to see Hermione standing there, gazing at him. Her eyes were suddenly very watery. "Hermione?"

"I didn't know," she said, a tear trickling down her cheek.

"Hermione," he said, moving closer to her. She trembled as he reached for her. "I'm sorry about what happened between us. I'm sorry it didn't work."

"I know I played a part in what happened, but you don't have to protect me. I can look after myself."

"I know you can," Harry said, giving her an ironic smile. "That's I admire about you. You know so much… and yet you don't know why."

"It's some cliché reason, isn't it?" she spat out, feeling the warmth of his hand as it touched her damp cheek. "Please don't give me stupid reasons, Harry. If you want to be the hero, that's one thing. You already are the hero of the story. Don't just leave because you feel like you have to."

"I can't get close to you," he said. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"That's not a reason, it's an excuse," Hermione sighed, reaching up to push his hand away. "You know that he'll come after those you—"

"Of course I care!" he cried, realizing that he was about ready to start shouting. "How do you think I felt, watching you all summer? What we had last year… it was amazing. I was so happy to know that I found you, but I know that if he had the chance, he would take you away! I don't want that to happen, especially not after what happened to Buffy!"

"Harry, please…" she whispered, the tears now dried and her strong voice returning. "Don't pull this noble crap. It isn't you."

"I won't let him take you," he said softly. "I won't."

"You can't protect me from the world, Harry," she said with a bitter smile. "Maybe you do like the strong ones."

"I like you," he replied, reaching for her again. She moved away quickly. "Hermione, I can't have this. I know what I have to do now. What he did to my family, what he's doing to me… he knows I'm coming for him. I'm ready. And I'll be ready when he makes his move. I'm not going to let him hurt you."

"Ron and I are okay, Harry," she said briskly as she started walking again. "We should get going or else Filch'll catch us."

"Right," he said, continuing on behind her. He had only gotten a few steps when he saw that Hermione had frozen.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" she asked loudly, coming forward and pulling out her wand as she walked.

"Taking a stroll," he said in his cool, drawling voice. "Don't tell me that you and Potty here made up, Granger."

"Get out," Harry said in a low voice, his own wand pointing at the center of Draco's forehead.

"Well, that's quite rude," Draco sneered, glancing at both of their faces. Hermione's looked tearful while Potter's looked, well… heroic. Noble, or something like it. Draco felt his sneer grow and pulled out his own wand. "If you want a go…"

Hermione's wand arm lowered and she turned to Harry. "Let him go."

"I don't think so," Harry said coldly, his arm held quite steady. "I want to know why he's here after hours."

"Harry, please… let's go."

"You just want me to let him go?" Harry asked her incredulously.

"He's not going to tell us why he's here," Hermione insisted.

"Aren't I, Granger?" Draco asked cheerfully as he lowered his wand. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was waiting for you."

"What?" Harry asked, taking a step forward. Hermione lifted her arm and restrained him, but not before Draco started laughing.

"Right, like I would want a Mudblood like you," he said spitefully, enjoying the color that suddenly sprung to Hermione's cheeks. Harry was looking oddly flushed.

"Leave her alone," Harry said.

"Defending your girlfriend, Potter?" Draco asked maliciously. "How… _noble_ of you."

"Get out of here," Hermione said, turning to look at the other boy. "Please… Filch will catch you."

"I didn't know you cared," Draco said, his silver eyes narrowing as he appraised her. "You might be worth something after all, Granger. Potter must not be worth a damn if he won't take _you _back."

Harry took another provoked step forward and Draco nearly fell to the side as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Harry, let him go," Hermione pleaded.

"I'm going," Draco said, sauntering past them with a lingering look at the bushy-haired brunette holding Harry back. "It was fancy chatting with you, Granger… Potter, you should learn to be nice."

Harry literally growled as Draco disappeared from view. Hermione released him as the other boy left and sighed, falling back against the wall.

"Something's up with him."

"Something is always up with him," Hermione said in a tired voice.

"No, I meant he's planning something," Harry growled.

"He's just being Draco," Hermione yawned.

"No, he's up to something," Harry insisted.

"I'm going," Hermione said, kicking off from the wall and heading into the darkness. Harry glared after Malfoy for a moment before storming after Hermione.

A few feet away, hidden in the shadows, Draco stepped forward, his eyes glistening maliciously. "Let the games begin, Potter," he said softly under his breath.

x-x-x-x

The constant beep was getting annoying as was the bright light above her closed eyelids. Feeling compelled to open her eyes, she let them flutter. The moment she opened her eyes, she gazed at a white ceiling. A bright fluorescent light was buzzing slightly overhead.

"Honey?"

Buffy turned and glanced at a stunning redheaded woman who was suddenly looking down at her. Buffy made to sit up, but a gentle hand restrained her.

"No, Elise… no. You need your rest."

Buffy turned to her other side where a man with messy dark hair and square spectacles was holding her down.

"Mom?" she asked, turning to gaze at the red-haired woman, who beamed at her. "Dad?" The man inclined his head before chuckling.

"She's awake! Oh, my goodness, she's finally awake! Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"

Buffy nearly had the wind knocked out of her as a third figure appeared out of nowhere, nearly crushing her to death with a hug that left nothing to be desired. The figure suddenly pulled back, beaming at her. He had green eyes like her mother. He had unkempt black hair like her father, as well as round glasses. But, unlike the boy she had dreamt of, this one didn't have a lightning-shaped scar upon his forehead.

"Harry?"

x-x-x-x

**_Next Chapter_**: A poisoned Buffy dreams of a time when James and Lily are alive; Faith returns to England; the Death Eaters finally get their act together; and some more Tara/Willow goodness.

**_Comments_**: _Yes, it has been over six months since I posted anything on this site. As I want to finish this story, I am continuing to work on it, despite the fact my schedule doesn't really allow time for sleeping. I have been having a lot of fun working on this story again. Many thanks go to Grace K, my wonderful Beta now in her last two semesters of graduate school who has taken on my projects once again. Thank you for reading this chapter and for not losing faith in this story. Thank you, thank you, thank you._

**_Reviewer Comments_**: You guys do rock. I just want to let you know that. I know it isn't much to say, but you really do.

sparky24: I hope this chapter was worth the six months it took to write. The story is moving on a bit... and we learn more about the boss from hell. I feel bad, considering I adore my current boss (a precinct lieutenant to be exact). Draco will get what's coming to him, certainly, too.

Lightdemondarkangel: Willow will be making her presence known, literally. Just not yet. Wesley is not dead as is sort of said in this chapter, he was kidnapped by "the good guys". The new DADA professor is unveiled in the next chapter. No one has really switched sides, as you will soon see.

electric pancake: oh, yes... Bollywood... funny. My, my. I think my sense of humor died somewhere. Okay, from your earlier review... Mrs. Ironton has a few secrets of her own. As for subtle hinting, I'm trying. This chapter was full of it. Malfoy is really spiteful. Then again, Harry did send his father to Azkaban. Even without the Dementors, Azkaban is still, literally, hell. As for Tara's entrance, it wasn't the entire student body involved in this... more will be explained in the next chapter. I sort of ran out of room in this one.

The Lady Morgaine: Tara's entrance in the story is further explained in the next chapter, as is the whole "anti-pagan" movement. Yes, there is a reason behind it, it wasn't the student body but a small group of students. Tara will get her own chance to shine, as will Willow. They will be creating spells soon. You'll see.

Nikki: Buffy, as it is, was given a small reprieve. And wouldn't you know that she's doing this for Harry. She knows she's a danger to him, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a breaking point. There's still a lot in store.

General Mac: I'm trying, really I am.

smurfinator: Neither can I, funny.

Watch.the.Rain: Although this chapter sort of gave us a nice Harry/Hermione closure, I would see Faith and Harry together, too. Buffy leaves for Harry and yet Faith can't stay away from him. As for your last line in the review (quoting "after all there is a chance she might get killed off") I should start taking odds. How many think Faith is going to bite the dust? Anyone?

Sean: Thank you. And even though you reviewed in May sometime, here is the long-lost chapter.

fanofLOG: Thanks.

PKgirl: Considering I have had the outline for this story and changed it (after waiting six months to start writing it again and getting plenty of ideas), well... there's a lot more coming. Buffy is going to sort of return to her valley-girl roots. It seems appropriate.

Akasha Drake: Oh, the bad guys have a lot of mistakes coming. As for Darth Willow, well... Willow will be one with the magicks, one way or another. I'm not giving THAT away. It really can go either way. There is a HUGE hint in the next chapter.

JellyFish72: Yes, I am going to finish the story. Thank you :)

spk: Thank you. I am going to finish it, basically because I invested a lot of time on this story last year and I want to see it through to the end. As for your questions... Buffy will not die now. Wesley is not dead. Faith's decision was sort of given away in this chapter.

VaMpEdChiK: Thank you, and I am going to finish. I like Buffy and Oliver, too. You can thank Grace for that little tip in that direction. Otherwise it probably would have been Buffy/Weasley or perhaps Buffy/Percy. Buffy has not learned to apparate basically because she's still learning magic. Harry will learn to apparate soon. And Buffy will be returning to Hogwarts soon enough with an entrance literally worth a thousand words.

**_Last Thoughts_**: _Okay, so I'm sure there are a lot of questions out there. Ask, ask… and I may tell. If you read some of my other stories, well… they will be updated soon, like within a week. I have two other active stories, and a few that I may be posting soon just because I have been holding onto them for awhile and want them out. Thank you for taking the time to read this story! I really do appreciate it! And I would love your opinions on this chapter because it has been a long time since I last posted _anything. _Thank you!_


	8. Real Life

_**Chapter Summary**: Buffy, after being attacked by her Vampire hunting team, falls prey to a poisoned dart that sends her mind spiraling into the 'what could have been'; meanwhile, Willow and Tara make their presence known while Giles and Irene Ironton face off… again._

**Chapter 8**

**Real Life**

x-x-x-x

"Elizabeth? Honey, are you okay?"

Buffy slowly glanced around, from the bright fluorescent lights that hummed slightly. Her eyes dropped down to the tall man with a head of messy black hair and warm, twinkling hazel eyes. Behind him was a white wall with a simple picture of a fruit bowl. Somehow, it seemed familiar to her. Frowning, she turned her attention to her left. A woman with shoulder-length red hair and warm green eyes smiled lovingly at her. But she was not as familiar as another redhead in Buffy's life, one with brown eyes and a shy nature. Turning her attention back in front of her, she saw the most familiar face of all. Her brother was sitting on her knees, bouncing slightly as Buffy stared oddly at him.

"I… I'm not sure," she said, glancing down at her arms before turning her attention to the redheaded woman. "Am I supposed to be okay?"

The woman glanced at her husband, tears sparkling in her vivid eyes. "We didn't think you'd pull through this, Elise. We didn't think you were going to make it." Bending down, she wrapped her arms around Buffy. Buffy held her back, closing her eyes as a strange sensation swept over her… _I'm actually hugging my mother…_

"Harry, would you mind getting the others?" the man asked, turning to clasp his son's shoulder. "I think they should know she's awake."

"How… how did you know?"

"Oh, your vitals were returning to normal," Lily Potter replied, sitting on the edge of her daughter's bed and smoothing back her golden hair. "The doctor informed us that you were easing back. We didn't ever think you would… we were so worried about you."

"But you're a fighter, just like us," James Potter replied, bending down and taking his daughter's bandaged hand. "Even four months blacked out…"

"Four months," Buffy marveled, sinking back onto her pillows. "What happened?"

"You… you don't remember?" James asked, sending Lily a quick glance to hold her silence. "You were shot."

"I was shot," Buffy deadpanned. "I don't remember being shot."

"In the head."

"Lily," James hissed, turning to glare at his wife.

"You were working undercover for your father's unit," Lily replied evenly, sending James an equally strong look. "Things went down and you were shot."

James' eyes darkened as he turned to the sunlight pouring in through the windows.

"What happened… exactly?" Buffy murmured.

"You don't need to know," James replied, his voice muffled as his back was to her.

"Yes, I do," Buffy retorted, sitting up despite her mother pushing her back down. "Mum just told me I was shot in the head!"

"And don't you think I live through that night after night?" James asked, rounding on her. "Don't you think I see you there, dying in my arms, night after night? Talking about it won't bring these months back! I didn't know if you would ever wake up."

"James, please, you're upsetting her," Lily said, angrily standing up. "None of this was her fault!"

"I don't blame her!" James muttered, throwing his hands in the air, stalking across the small room. Buffy watched him go calmly.

"You blame yourself," she realized, blinking down. "But you shouldn't."

He looked over at her, his eyebrows rising. "Oh? And how would you explain that?"

"Because I must have did something wrong," Buffy reasoned. "I screwed up. Something happened and it was my fault and because of that—"

"You were covering Black," James said gently. "He fell, you covered him, you paid. If I had been a little quicker, I would have taken that shot. I should have—"

"—done nothing, Dad," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "Please… I'm right here. I'm alive and I… I don't remember anything about what happened or where I was before that or—"

"The doctor told us there might be a chance you wouldn't remember the incident," Lily said softly. "He told us that you might not live through it at all."

The door opened again and Harry stuck his head around the edge. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Everything's fine, son," James replied, running a hand through his messy hair and smiling wanly at his son. "Who've you got?"

"Well…" Harry held the door open and another figure stepped through. Buffy eyed him cautiously as he stepped into the room. Harry closed the door behind him, a slight look of awe on his face.

A moment later, Buffy forgot everything as the tall, dark-haired figure rushed her, throwing his arms over her shoulders and drawing her into a crushing embrace that left her breathless. "Hello," she gasped as he released her.

"You have no idea," he stammered, grabbing her hands hastily. "I mean… to see you alive! You had no idea… my parents and I, we've been so worried… no news for months! And suddenly…"

"Here I am."

"There you are," he murmured, lifting one of his hands to touch her face. It felt so warm there that she wanted to cuddle into it, but he moved it to her hair and brought his face to hers. Their foreheads touched. His hand moved down her back, as though making certain she was really there. A moment later, his arms tightened around her again and she found her face smashed up into his chest.

"Yes, I'm still here," she muttered, her voice completely muffled.

"I know you are… I just had to make sure you weren't going anywhere."

"Not now I'm not," Buffy said dryly as he pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes. "I'm staying right here. I think I like it here."

"Are your parents in the waiting room?"

"Yes," the young man replied, a bit breathlessly. "They're waiting for word."

"Come on, Harry, Lily," James said, gesturing to the door. "Let's give them a few moments of privacy. They haven't seen each other in months."

"It must have felt like an eternity," Lily breathed, wrapping an arm around her son's shoulders. "Let's go find the doctor and give him the good news."

As soon as the door closed, the man turned back to her, his dark eyes flashing in concern. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm okay," Buffy said, leaning back against the pillows. "At least, I'm physically okay. I just… I have no memory of this place or of what happened or…" She gave him a rather ashamed smile. "I don't really remember you."

"They told us it might happen," he said, running his thumb over her bony cheek. "They told us you might not remember much of anything before that… that night." His eyes wore a slightly wounded look. "But I guess I was hoping that you would remember me."

"I'm sorry," she said, glancing away. "I'm trying… really, I am."

"Don't you dare feel guilty," he said, his eyes flashing as he turned her face back to his. "They tried to kill you and you're feeling guilty because they robbed you of your memories?"

"I just feel so helpless… I know my family because I've seen them… but when I look at you… it's like I don't feel any of that familiarity at all."

He looked sad as he stood up and moved away from her bed. "I'll admit the past few months have been hard. My parents… they really don't understand the way things were between us. They thought you were a distraction, but you're not. They were always on me about that Bitsy Potter. But all you had to do was smile… like that smile, right now." Buffy glanced down, her smile sliding from her face. "Then you got shot and things changed… you became a hero in the public's eye. They aren't the smartest people, but they understand what it's like for their only son to lose his heart to someone so willing to give her life to save someone else's."

"I just wish I could remember that night… and how it used to be."

"You will," he said. And then he smiled. "I don't think you'd have it any other way. You have your father's stubbornness in you… not to mention his desire to be a hero."

"I don't want to be a hero," Buffy whispered. "I just want to remember."

"I'll help you remember," he said, sitting down next to her. "I'll do whatever it takes so that you remember who you really are. And I'm going to start by telling you about you and me, the early years."

"I think I'd like that," Buffy said, a smile returning to her face.

"Well, it all began in the summer about four years ago… it was at Harry's birthday party, the day he turned thirteen…"

x-o-x

Outside, in the living world, Buffy Summers was cold to the touch. No matter how much magical intervention there was, there was no pulling her out of the coma she was in. Giles removed his hand from her cheek and rose, turning a hostile look on Irene Ironton. The cold iron woman was perspiring profusely under his intense visual scrutiny and cleared her throat uncomfortably.

She then said the words he would later make her pay for.

"There's nothing more I can do for her."

x-o-x

"So… is everyone here usually this hostile?"

"Not really," Tara Maclay replied, ducking underneath a branch as she and Willow Rosenberg strolled one of the many on-campus parks. "I mean, there's s-some. But it's just a farce, I-I think. There are a couple of us that they target, but its r-really just two or th-th-three."

"The rest just play follow the leader?" Willow frowned, folding her arms to her chest.

"Immature, I k-know," Tara replied, wincing. She turned to glance at Willow as the two stepped on the cobblestone path. "What about y-y-you?"

"I dabble," Willow smiled. "I mean, I can do a few basic charms… float a pencil, call upon two elements."

"All wandless?" Tara questioned curiously.

"Yeah. It really isn't hard."

"I know. I kind of dabble myself."

"Really?" Willow asked, glancing at the other girl curiously. "What have you done?"

"A few m-m-minor charms… I can float and c-c-call upon the elements. I can also d-do a few minor convergence ch-charms and call into other d-d-dimensions."

"Wow," Willow whispered softly under her breath.

"It really isn't anything," Tara replied hastily, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

"No, really…" Willow said, shaking her head. "You've got me impressed. I didn't know… I mean, other than one of my best friends who can apparently do magic, you're the first Wicca I've met."

"R-Really?" Tara asked softly.

"Yeah. I mean, I would love to be able to call upon fire, but the last time I tried that is when I was on my bedspread. Let me tell you, that caused a bit of a problem with the smoke alarm and my parent's sprinkler system. My parents just figured I was pulling some sort of teen rebellious streak after they got me shipped off to England. I mean… wow… listen to me ramble." Willow saw that Tara was looking at her, smirking in amusement. "I tend to ramble when I get nervous."

"What d-do you have to be so n-nervous about?" Tara asked as the two women stopped near a set of swings. She walked over and sat down, smoothing her long skirt as she saw Willow curl her arm through a chain and sank onto her own rubbery seat.

"Just… everything. I'm not the kind of girl who just picks up and leaves for freedom. I chose this because I knew I'd like it here."

"You mentioned a close friend… does she go to school in England?"

Willow hesitated, wondering how much she should divulge. "She used to."

"Oh," Tara replied, glancing away. "I'm s-sorry if this makes you uncomfortable."

"It really doesn't," Willow said honestly. "It's just… it's hard for me to talk about. She's just gone through a lot and it makes me feel kind of, you know, normal."

"And she can do magic?"

"With a wand."

"A w-wand?" Tara asked, her eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise as she began to drift back and forth on her swing.

"Yeah," Willow replied. "Her… it's a family trait."

"Her entire family was m-magical?"

"Well… yes."

"That's… well, my Mom could do m-magic too."

"Really."

"Yeah," Tara smiled again. Willow leaned on the bar as she watched Tara swing lazily back and forth. "I w-wonder if my mom knew her p-p-parents."

"I wouldn't know. Her parents died a long time ago. She didn't even find out she was English until last year."

"No," Tara gasped, her feet suddenly dragging on the ground. "That's terrible! H-How did they die?"

"You'd have to ask her that," Willow mumbled. She really didn't like talking about Buffy.

"I don't exactly know your fr-friend."

"She's in Bulgaria at the moment," Willow sighed, kicking at the ground. "She's… she's…"

"It's okay."

"No, it's really not. But let's not talk about that. Let's talk about school. What's your major?" Willow felt herself blush all of a sudden. Of all the things to talk about, she chose to talk about their _majors_?

"Oh, it's h-history. And yours?"

Willow pondered her thought for a moment as she continued to swing lightly. "I want to teach," she replied, staring hard at the ground. "I want to make a difference to kids, you know?"

"What subject?"

"I like science," Willow grinned. "Of course, if magic could be an actual topic at school…"

Tara started giggling all of a sudden. As she cupped her hand to her mouth, she blushed prettily. "Could you imagine all of the s-s-schools they'd burn down?"

"The parents protesting…"

"It'd be a r-riot," Tara sighed, dramatically leaning against the pole. After a moment, she added, "We should practice sometime."

"What?"

"Magic… we could practice, you know. I could show you h-how to safely call f-fire."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You would do that?" Willow, for some reason, felt humble.

"Yeah. It'd be my pleasure."

"I'd like that."

"Me, too."

x-o-x

"How is that?"

"I like it there… thanks," Buffy said, smiling up at the figure as he turned her wheelchair away from the sun. They were in the hospital's courtyard hours later. She felt relieved to be in the cool, fresh air despite the fact that her parents were hovering like angry worker bees. Her eyes surveyed his rather nice backside as he walked around her to sit on the edge of the fountain. "It feels good to be out here again."

"I know what you mean," he said, leaning closer to her as a group of nurses and patients strolled by. "I'm not particularly fond of hospitals."

Realizing what that meant, she looked down. "I'm sorry you've been stuck there for so long."

"No… I don't… it wasn't your fault," he said, glancing up at her. "Don't you blame yourself for this, Elise. This wasn't your fault."

"Apparently it was the fault of the guy who shot me, right?" Buffy grumbled under her breath.

"Well…"

"This is awkward," she commented, tipping her face to the light.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," he said earnestly, snatching her hand back again. In the three hours they'd had together, he hadn't really let go of her. "I'm just… I needed to get out of there and after such a long rest I figured you could use the sunshine."

"I can," Buffy replied, shrugging. "I like the sun."

"I like the way the sun shines on you."

"Now that's borderline disgusting."

"Ah, Harry," he said, grinning at Buffy's brother who was approaching them. A tall, dark-haired man in a policeman's uniform stood on his other side. "And…"

"Sirius Black," Harry said, gesturing to the man standing slightly behind him. Seeing the apprehensive look on Buffy's face, he added, "Do you remember him?"

"Not in the least," she replied, glancing curiously at the older man. "Err, sorry."

"He's Dad's partner," a third voice piped in. This one was decidedly juvenile and female as a smaller figure with dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes suddenly appeared next to Harry, snapping on chewing gum and looking bored and haughty. "They've only known each other since they were six."

"Oh," Buffy said, looking at this new man in a different light.

"It was his life you saved," her companion said.

"Forgive me for making an awkward moment even more uncomfortable," this Sirius Black said, stepping forward and looking down at the girl in the wheelchair. "How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly well," Buffy said, offering a shy smile. She smiled more brightly at the brown-haired girl. "Hi, Dawnie."

"I would have appreciated it if they'd pulled me out of school when you woke up instead of sending him," here she indicated Sirius Black, "to tell me that you were awake and dragging my sorry rear over here."

"It was all for the best," Harry argued, glaring at his youngest sister. "Boy, are you a right pain in the—"

"Oh, I implore you not to finish that sentence," James Potter said, appearing over his son and youngest daughter's heads and grinning broadly at his daughter and her companion. "All right there, you two?"

"So much for having a private moment," the young man bristled. "Your family is quite annoying there, Elise."

"Even if we were annoying, at least we're loveable," Lily joked as she pulled Dawn away from Harry. She looked like she was about ready to start pulling out his hair as she always did when the thirteen-year-old got disgruntled. "If was quite nice for you to take her outside here. Even if this isn't the most pleasant weather, at least it'll be a different view than those four white walls."

"That's for damned sure," James muttered, taking Lily's waist and glancing pointedly at his other two children. "Harry, Dawn… let's go… and if you could give us a moment, too," he said, glancing back at the two men near his daughter. "I think Sirius wanted a moment alone with her."

"Well… all right. I'll go find my parents and tell them to go home," the young man replied. Standing up, he brought Buffy's hand to his lips before disappearing back towards the hospital. After a hurried goodbye, Buffy watched her parents, her brother and her sister leave the hospital grounds.

Soon, she felt a shadow fall across her face. She blinked up as Sirius Black took the man's abandoned seat next to her.

"You have no idea how it feels knowing your best mate's daughter saved your life."

Buffy couldn't speak. Not only did she have nothing to say, but she wanted to know what happened and was perfectly willing to let these events unfold.

"The heist was there, but it had turned sour. They realized that I was an officer and they were going to kill me. But you, acting on your training officer's orders, decided to watch the heist. When it went down, you jumped in and took the bullet."

Buffy blinked at the raw emotional current in the man's voice.

"I caught you when you fell," he said in a low voice. "I don't remember much except you were bleeding to death. The… perpetrators were able to escape. The others wanted to go after them, but your father… he wouldn't leave your side. Even when they told him to let you go… he wouldn't. I don't think I've ever seen a father more devoted to his daughter." He gave Buffy a significant look. "I know I haven't been grateful that your father has let me into his personal life… but now…"

"Please, you don't have to," Buffy said quickly, glancing at the anguish on his face.

"But I feel that if I'd been stronger…"

"My dad would have lost his partner," she said in a thick tone. "And that would have hurt him."

"More than watching his baby girl dive into a massacre?" Sirius asked incredulously, looking at her. "I don't suppose anyone has told you what the local media has said. Even some of the papers in London have gotten wind of this."

"Gotten wind of what?" Buffy asked in a tired voice.

"You're a hero, Elise," Sirius said earnestly. "You saved an old man's life by risking your own. And I realize that while it can make you incredibly popular, it wouldn't sit well with the Commissioner. You know, your boss and the one who actually tells you that you'll make it at the end of all this training."

"All what training?" Buffy asked, confused.

"Oh…" Sirius suddenly looked ashamed. "I keep forgetting that you don't remember… how much don't you remember?"

"Pretty much everything," Buffy admitted sadly. "I only remember bits and pieces. I can't even remember…" She flailed a helpless hand.

"You don't remember his name?" Sirius asked quietly. When Buffy shook her head, he laughed and ran his hands over his eyes. "I keep forgetting what a blast like that can do to a person."

"Apparently, it robbed me of my memories… I feel… oblivious."

"Don't you dare—"

"Blame myself? Of course not… it'd be far easier to blame the guy who shot me," Buffy said blithely.

Sirius gave her a long, hard look. "No, but it would be far easier to blame him instead of your own instinct. But it goes beyond that. This is the harsh reality we live in, Elizabeth. This is real life."

"I know, and I get that, but…"

"Having a nice chat?"

Buffy glanced up at the young man now standing in front of them. His hands were on his hips and his angry eyes were directed at Sirius. The older man quickly stood up and frowned slightly. "I'd best be going now… I have a shift this evening. Are you sure you can take care of her?"

"I believe I can." His voice was as cold as ice. His eyes were steely and he wasn't looking very kind and sweet at that moment. "I think you better get away from her."

After Sirius had awkwardly left, Buffy glanced at the vacant space up to her before staring at the figure towering above her. "Why did you do that?"

He looked at her, his nostrils flaring for a moment before looking away. "I'll tell you later," he muttered under his breath. "I don't feel like explaining it now. But every time I see that man I want to rip him limb from limb. I'm only cordial when your family's about."

"Now I feel safer," Buffy said sarcastically.

"How about we return you to your room?' he asked, getting behind her and pushing her wheelchair for the ramp. "As much as I'd love to stay with you this evening, my parents have a benefit tonight and I must go. Such is the way when your father is like mine is."

"I don't remember him," Buffy said bluntly, dropping the hint that he should explain.

"Hmm… looks like me, but older, far less dashing."

Buffy giggled despite herself. Imagining an older figure Sirius's age pushing her wheelchair was amusing, especially if they were using a cane.

"That sounds like the Elise I used to know," he said, pausing as they reached the doorway. He leaned down, hugging her from behind. "You have no idea how much I've missed you these past four months."

Buffy patted his arms, the light fading from her eyes. As much as she longed to say how much she missed him, how could she when she could not even remember his name?

x-o-x

Even as a hard rain fell outside, Giles sat under the porch roof, staring at the wildlife around the residence. He hadn't moved in some time. He really didn't want to.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to coldly regard Irene Ironton. "I'm not interested in anything you have to say," he said curtly.

"I have done far more than apologize for my actions," Irene replied softly. "But I—"

"Bloody hell! It isn't your actions that you need to apologize for! Those actions were the direct result of those two boys' training! They shot _my _Slayer and because of that, it is likely she will never see the light of day again! She will never see her brother or her friends again! And I am leaving it to _you _to explain to the great and famous Harry Potter why his sister is dead!"

"But she isn't dead yet. She's not going to die unless—"

"You don't understand, do you?" he objected, rounding on her. "You have _no idea how important that girl is to the rest of us_. You saw her as a liability… you and your bloody Ministry! I've never condoned their actions. I've never agreed with their ways. But sending her out here only to have your vampire hunters _kill _her…"

"I would have never agreed to send her out here if I knew that she was being targeted as such," Mrs. Ironton snapped, flaring up.

"And I know you're telling the truth because…"

"How do I know that you weren't sent here to kill Miss Summers?"

"Because she has been my Slayer since I arrived in Sunnydale more than three years ago," he retorted angrily, turning his back on her. "I would never hurt her."

"Never?" Irene said softly, stepping up to his side. "Just like you would never inject her with a potion to make her powers wane… you know, sedatives and muscle relaxants?"

Giles' felt his breath catch in his throat as he turned to glare at her. "How dare you… you stupid woman! I was with the Watcher's Council then!"

"And now they're dead," she replied crisply. "It seems like such a shame to waste your talent on a dead art."

"What would you call your job?" he demanded. "You send kids out to this forest to die! Do you call that training?"

"I only do what is mandated to me by the Ministry of Magic," she replied, her lips twitching. "As you would do well to remember."

"I am not part of your bloody Ministry," Giles retorted. "If I were…"

"You would be labeled a dangerous creature, certainly," she said with her humorless smile. "As your Slayer surely has."

"This isn't a game anymore," Giles sighed. "This is Buffy's life we're talking about here. She's dying and your stupid trainees are to blame. If she dies, I will see that you and your team are persecuted to the very extent of the law." His eyes darkened and a wicked smile came to his face. "Buffy has friends, powerful friends. If they knew that you were responsible for her death…"

He walked away then, leaving Irene Ironton lost in her thoughts.

x-o-x

Willow had just returned from dinner that night when she felt a sudden instinct, as though something was terrible wrong, but she just couldn't place it. She blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds as she cleaned up her dinner plate. Something, somewhere, was very wrong…

x-o-x

"Flight one-nine-eight-six to London England, now boarding…"

Faith took one look at her boarding pass and slipped her passport back into her shoulder bag. Heaving it onto her shoulder, she glanced one last time around the New York airport before handing off her boarding pass and walking down the long tunnel. She was almost there. She could taste the freedom.

She felt something prickle on her arm as she walked and stopped, causing passersby to plow into her. After muttering a quick apology, she turned and pulled up the sleeve of her black top. The Dark Mark was barely visible under her skin, but it was far more visible than it had been yesterday. Cursing under her breath, she jogged the rest of the way down the corridor, eager to get on board. The sooner she got to the other side, the better she would feel.

x-o-x

Harry glanced up from his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay as Hermione walked back into the common room. She was surrounded by the other seventh year Gryffindor girls who dropped on either side of her, giggling. He watched as she laughed along, but he could tell she was holding back. He felt guilty that their friendship couldn't have lasted despite their short relationship. The guilt was beginning to wear on them both, he thought. And then their eyes met. He found himself looking back down at his essay and grimacing. He just wished he could repair the damage in their friendship, despite the feelings that lingered on both sides.

x-o-x

Deep in the depths of a small cavern, Lord Voldemort swept in graciously, followed by three of his most devout followers. He paused at a small table, his fingers leaning down to lovingly caress a small box. He then lifted it into his hands and turned to the first Death Eater behind him. "Lucius, my slippery friend," he rasped, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Lucius's docile expression. "You will need this."

His face held casual interest as he opened the box and glimpsed the contents inside. His face sobered as he pushed the box lid shut. "Very well, my Lord."

His gaze turned to the second Death Eater, who looked alive despite her gaunt face and pale expression. "My dear Bella…"

"It has begun, my Lord," she said cautiously, turning to face him and bowing her head slightly. "It is as you asked. There will be panic in the beginning."

"As I have foreseen," he replied humorlessly, his red eyes gleaming. "The others?"

"Are totally compliant to you, my Lord."

"My dear." Unnaturally long fingers reached over to clasp her shoulder. His eyes then turned to the third Death Eater. "Your recovery has been well?"

"Very well," a curt voice replied. "It has gone far smoother than anticipated." He paused. "I thank you for your… assistance, my Lord."

"It was well earned," Voldemort replied. "Do you understand your role?"

"Yes," came the pleasant reply. "I will be working most closely with Bellatrix Lestrange on this… project. I hope in the end…"

"As death is your specialty," Voldemort replied calmly, "I expect perfection."

"All will be perfect, my Lord," he said, bowing slightly to the Dark Lord. "All will be perfect."

x-x-x-x

**_Next Chapter_**: Faith returns to England. Buffy continues to hover between life and death and lives in a dream state. And if things couldn't get worse for the government, they now have those pesky Death Eaters about…

**_Comments_**: _After about seven month's hiatus, there is yet another chapter of this story! I finally decided to finish this story before I take on any other projects, mainly out of guilt. That and my outline for this story was pretty incredible. I didn't find it until ten months after moving into my apartment. Suddenly, a week ago, it was there, in a box, just waiting for me to pick it up. I really didn't want to abandon this story, but the first part took a lot out of me... the fact I could write almost 350,000 words (taking out the tens of thousands of reviewer comments and spoilers) in a few short months was incredible. I only hope this story can exceed such expectations. I think I've become a better writer than I used to be, but I'll leave the judge of that up to you, the wonderful fans. The other crossover, "Dance", is being rewritten completely, so that's the only reason that story hasn't been updated. I only have about eight chapters done, so only half to go!_

**_Reviewer Comments_**: Although I can no longer leave little bits for the nice reviewers, I'm still going to take the time to thank you all. So… thank you!


	9. Drift Away

_**Chapter Summary**: Buffy exists in a world where her parents are still alive and finds herself in a happy new existence, one she may not wish to leave; Faith defies Ministry of Magic orders and returns to England and her brother; Sirius' personality since his sister's departure has altered drastically; Hogwarts learns of the fallen Slayer; the Death Eaters finally make their move… _

**Chapter 9**

**Drift Away**

x-x-x-x

"Now I don't know which one of you fired that crossbow," Irene Ironton said in her firm tone, circling around her two vampire hunters. They both stood with their hands clasped behind their backs and their gaze almost sad as they stared at the ground. "But that poison is affecting her system far more than we realized. Which means that someone tampered with the formula or else… something inside her body is affecting her ability to fight off the poison."

"Have you asked Mister Giles?" Kris asked, gazing up at his instructor through a curtain of dark hair. "We know he has poisoned her in the past."

"Well, yes, he has," Irene said in a low voice, glancing around in case Rupert Giles was listening in on their private conversation. "But I do not believe that he would have been the one to tamper with the arrows. Those were in your rather capable hands, were they not Tomas?"

The young man nodded, gulping slightly. Anyone under such harsh appraisal from Irene Ironton would have grown anxious by now. Her cold, beady eyes were fixed on his pale face. Her thin lips were twisting in her waxy face and her posture was rim-rod straight.

"Then perhaps you would care to tell us something?"

"I have nothing to say," Tomas said, his voice gaining strength. "You cannot possibly believe that we were responsible for what happened to her!"

"I must find out the truth," she replied coolly. "We are facing a very difficult situation here. We were to keep Miss Summers safe. If she remains in this state for an extended period of time, she will die."

x-o-x

"Do you like it?"

Buffy glanced at the warm, yellow-tinted bedroom and hovered near the doorway, her eyes taking in every detail from the cream-colored curtains, the rich inch-thick carpeting to the yellow swirled comforter on a queen-sized bed. On a shelf were five framed photographs and countless others propped up against small statuettes. A vase of yellow roses sat in a stunning crystal vase on a maple dresser and vanity table.

"You can come in, you know," Lily Potter giggled, reaching for her daughter's arm and physically tugging her into the room.

"Beats the heck out of that hospital room," Buffy replied in an awed voice, pausing next to her mother and gazing thoughtfully around the room. "Did it always look like this?"

"Up until a few years ago, it was bright pink and covered in posters of horses and music groups and other things you thought were rather kid-like," Lily explained, taking in her daughter's enraptured expression. "However, while you were… well, sleeping… your brother and your father took it upon themselves to replace your old white furniture and touch up the room a bit."

This would explain why everything looked so brand new. She moved into the room and walked over to the bookcase. Reaching towards the top shelf, she removed a picture and couldn't resist grinning. Her parents were both laughing as Harry and Dawn and Buffy lined up on a rocky ledge with some historical building in the background. Dawn was pinching Harry, who wore a rather amusing expression. Buffy knew that she was suppressing her laughter. Her father was on Dawn's opposite side, clutching his abdomen and positively howling with laughter. Her mother was standing next to her, her hand on Buffy's shoulders. She was giving Harry and Dawn a sideways glance and was also laughing, clutching her daughter on the narrow ledge for support.

"We took a trip to Ireland about a year and a half ago," Lily chuckled, looking over Buffy's shoulder at the familiar photograph. "It was one of our better vacations, I guess," she continued, laughing at the memory. "Harry and Dawn were always fighting and you just kept sitting there half expecting them to gang up on you. They never did, you know." She gave Buffy a fond look as she swept her daughter's hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. "You know how devoted Harry is to you and how Dawn idolizes you." Glancing around the room, she shook her head and sighed. "There is so much memory in this place. Before you started your training, your father and I tried to talk you into coming back—"

"Coming back?" Buffy asked, confused.

"You moved out after you graduated from secondary school," Lily said slowly, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the rest of the pictures. "Ah… it's this one." She handed Buffy a picture of a teenage girl in a cap and gown standing between her two proud, smiling parents. This one was not in a frame, but was wedged up underneath the arched wing of a small angel statue. The picture under the other wing was of a wide-open flat with a dark-haired girl standing next to her. Their arms were clasped and there were moving crates and trunks stacked up to the top of the doors behind them. The small wooden sign over their heads read "Girls Club Only". The more she thought about it, the more she realized how immature that was.

"Where did I go?" Buffy asked.

"I keep forgetting you don't remember these things, Elise," Lily said sadly, sitting down on the comforter as her daughter continued to pick up and glance at the assortment of pictures on the shelf. "You honestly don't remember moving in with Cedric?"

"Cedric?" Buffy asked, her eyebrow furrowing as she glanced back at her mother. "Who is Cedric?"

"The young man from the hospital," Lily replied.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Lily said with a teasing smile. "His name is Cedric Diggory. You two were… well…"

"He said we met at Harry's thirteenth party," Buffy said, recalling what the young man had told her just a few days earlier.

"You moved in with him about a half year ago once he had left his parents' home," Lily continued slowly.

"Who's that?"

"Your first roommate, Lita," Lily laughed, seeing the picture Buffy was referring to. "You two were close friends since your old primary days. You lived together for nearly two years before you both moved out. She got married and moved to Germany and you, well… you moved in with Cedric." A small smile played around her lips. "You kept saying how far you wanted to be from us, especially Harry and Dawn."

"I'm sorry."

Lily glanced up at the sincerity sparkling in her daughter's eyes. "There is really nothing to be sorry for, dear," she said kindly.

"But…" Buffy said, gesturing around the room. "How could I forget this? How could I forget you guys? How could I…" Her words trailed off helplessly as she dropped onto the bed next to her mother, who wrapped a comforting arm over her shoulders.

"Because you're my grown up little girl," Lily assured her. "You know that your father and I love you dearly, right?"

She managed to nod, choking out, "Always," as her eyes began to tear up.

Lily leaned over, pulling Buffy into her arms and hugging her in a way only a mother could. After a moment, she pulled back and got to her feet. "I think I'll let you reacquaint with your bedroom," she said softly. "Your father is planning on _attempting _to cook tonight, so I think we'll be ordering out." Her nose wrinkled at that very thought and she shook her head, smiling brightly again. "Once you get settled in… we'll talk about getting you back to your flat with Cedric."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, daughter mine," Lily said, pausing at the doorway to throw her daughter a soft look. After a moment, she added, "I'm really glad you're home."

As Lily disappeared down the hall, Buffy turned her attention back to the photos. "So am I," she whispered.

x-o-x

It was well after midnight when Faith stepped out of the airport. Drawing a deep breath of the cool September air, she noticed how foggy it was and drew her coat tightly around her. She knew exactly where she wanted to go; the problem was getting there. Sirius lived on Grimmauld Place, wherever that was. She suddenly wished she'd paid more attention in Geography class, or in any of her other classes. Despite the fact she hadn't exactly liked school, it would have come in handy here.

There was nothing for it. She was going to have to take the normal human route of traffic. Stalking over to the line of taxi cabs, she waited until the line thinned before obtaining one. After tucking her rolling suitcase into the back, she got inside the car and once again found everything was backwards. It was a little weird seeing the driver on the opposite side of what she was used to. Fingering her duffel one the seat next to her, she merely replied "Grimmauld Place" when he asked her where she wanted to go. He tapped his finger to his cap and turned, starting the vehicle and merging it into traffic.

The sky was obscured by fog to all with normal human vision, but Faith saw star visible through the low cloud cover. Sighing, she dropped her head backwards onto the seat, feeling her eyelids droop. It had been a long day and the sooner she got to see her brother, the better. He was probably the only person in this stupid country that wouldn't arrest her on sight. Well, maybe him and Harry Potter…

The thought of seeing Harry again made her insides twist. Though she had seen him just a few months ago, she missed him. Recalling their chemistry when they first met, it brought a smile to her face to know that, for once, she had done the right thing in letting him go. She just wished she could see him more… of all the people B had in her life, he was definitely one of the more positive ones. And right now she needed all the positive people in her life that she could get. The fact that Voldemort could do a spell or whatever at any time and make her evil scared the hell out of her. She didn't want to be evil. She just wanted to find herself.

Wasn't that the reason she came back?

She had to convince herself it wasn't for Harry Potter or her brother because the stupid magical government had told her not to. They had to be in deadly danger before she could encroach upon this miserable, rainy island again. And yet, here she was.

"Where to, Miss?"

"Hmm?" Faith asked distractedly, her eyes still staring out her passenger window.

"We've just reached Grimmauld Place," he replied, turning in his seat to look at her. It was then Faith realized the car had stopped. "Which house do you wish to get to?"

Oh, crap… she knew she'd forgotten something. And it wouldn't help to tell this guy anyway because it was unplottable or some such nonsense like that. The driver's gaze grew suspicious as Faith shrugged her shoulders and frowned. "I don't remember where my brother lives."

"Oh," he said, staring at her in a hard manner. Coming out of her reverie, Faith reached for her duffel and pulled out a wad of British pounds.

"How much do I owe you?"

After paying the driver, she got out, slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbed the handle of her suitcase and began walking down the sidewalk. Frowning, she gazed at the houses. Thirty seven Grimmauld Place… thirty one Grimmauld Place… where in the hell did Sirius live again? How was she going to find the house if she didn't know where it was?

Remembering what had been written on that little slip of paper, she closed her eyes and began to concentrate. "Okay," she muttered under her breath. "The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix can be found at…" But no number came to mind and she sighed, opening her eyes and stalking down the road again. She needed to find her way soon before the residents called the police on her. Finally, she stopped. She repeated the words again. And yet nothing seemed familiar.

She had rarely seen the exterior of the house. That was part of the problem.

"Damn it," she hissed under her breath, dropping her bag onto the ground. She had no idea what to do. She was going to have to do this randomly. She decided to start from the beginning.

"The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix can be found at number nine, Grimmauld Place," she whispered, watching the gap between houses eight and ten. Nothing happened and her shoulders slumped. She was exhausted. She was jetlagged. She wanted a hot shower and a strong drink. But she had to find this freaking place first!

"All right," she muttered again. "The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix can be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Before she could sigh, curse and stomp around again, a house suddenly appeared out of thin air to her right. Letting out a shriek that could have woken the entire neighborhood given the late hour, she grabbed her luggage and positively ran for the gate. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Tears of relief flooded her eyes as she stepped up on the single stoop and placed her hand towards the knocker. It closely resembled the head of a serpent. And this had been her parents' home. She touched it and she felt the snake writhe beneath her. Suddenly, something sprang out and snapped into the palm of her hand.

"Ah," she cried, pulling her hand away before kicking the door. Adding a bit of Slayer strength behind it, she felt the door shudder as she threw her weight into it. "Oh, for God's sake, just bloody open already!"

But the door remained closed and silent as ever, as though mocking her. Nursing her bleeding hand and glaring at the said door, she leaned forward with her uninjured hand and placed it in the center of the door.

On the other side, she could hear the sound of locks unlocking and chains rattling. After what seemed like an eternity, the door fell open a whole three inches and Faith was forced to push her way in, still cradling her right hand and dragging her luggage with her. Once inside, she turned, expecting to see a warmly lit corridor and her favorite family portraits complaining about the draft. Instead, she found herself enclosed in darkness as the main door clicked shut and began locking itself behind her. The portraits were all silent, mostly because they had been covered with blankets.

Faith used her Slayer-enhanced eyesight to find her way down to her duffel and remove a book of matches. Striking one, she lit the lamp at her side and used it to light the rest of the lamps in the hallway. Despite the fact it was late autumn, small puffs of blue air followed every exhale and she sighed, glancing around. The house looked as though it was dead and unlived in. She hoped nothing had happened to Sirius. She had just seen him a few days ago, right?

Gathering her things, she dropped them on the bottom step before heading down to the dining area. Once she had managed to light a fire, she gathered her things and made her way upstairs. Already she could feel the house springing to life. The portraits began mumbling under their covers. The fire seemed to give the corridor a meager light, but it was light nevertheless. Nodding with some satisfaction, Faith turned and made her way upstairs. Dropping her things off at the landing, she reached inside her bag once more and retrieved the only weapon she had been able to take – her prized dagger. Removing it from its sheath, she held it in a defensive posture as she made her way down the dark hallway, lighting the lamps as she went.

She finally reached Sirius's room; the door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open with the edge of her foot and tucked her head around the door, holding the knife at her side. After a moment, she saw Sirius curled peacefully on his bed.

A moment later, she realized why.

Taking one step into the room, the edge of her foot tapped an empty bottle of what looked like rum. It rolled across the wooden floor. Sirius murmured in his sleep and turned over, lying on his back with his mouth wide open.

Sighing in disgust, Faith sat the knife sharply on the vanity and stalked into the room, using her lamp to light the fire in his grate. Sirius began to murmur again, even as Faith retrieved the bottle and turned it over. It had been run dry, she thought, setting it aside. And it wasn't the only one. There were other bottles around the bed, including one tucked into the sheets next to him. Wrinkling her nose at the overwhelmingly stale odor of alcohol, she walked over to her brother's bed and gave his shoulder a good shake.

"Sirius!" she hissed. "Sirius Black, get up!"

He murmured again and turned away from her, snoring loudly.

Faith put her hands on her hips and walked over to the door. Using all of her Slayer-inherited strength, she slammed the door with such force that it snapped from its hinges and bits of it flew clear across the hallway. Sirius snapped up in his bed, squinting through his long dark hair. "Whoozair?" he shouted, coughing slightly. "Who's there?"

Faith stepped back in the shadows, wondering if she should let him know she was there or not. Finally, he gazed over to the door. His eyes traveled across the state of his room, which looked as though a nuclear device had been set off and then dumped over with alcohol, to the fire now burning merrily in his fireplace. "What the…?"

"Next time, you should really answer."

"Huh?" he asked, turning his head and blinking in her direction. "Who's there?"

"Your dearest and most darling sister, of course," Faith growled, stepping out of the shadows.

"Faith…" he whispered, a panic-stricken look crossing his face. Faith beamed at him and he suddenly paled, looking away. "What… what are you doing back here?"

"I came to see you, of course," she said sweetly, kicking aside another empty bottle as she closed the distance between them.

"Um… this isn't what it looks like," he said feebly, gesturing to the bottles surrounding him.

"Well, they're not as squishy as a stuffed bunny, but I bet they taste better."

Sirius winced at the hard tone of her voice. He had only known her a short time and in that time he had discovered that she shared their mother's infamous temper. Add to that her Slayer superpowers and suddenly he was deathly afraid for his life. "You're not… you're not going to hurt me, are you?"

"What do you think?" she asked, stopping over his bed. She was close enough to touch him now… strangle him, even. He knew he was alone in the house.

"I think I should be very afraid," he said, swallowing hard. It was all Faith could do not to sneer at his bloodshot eyes and his slurring speech and that droopy, ineffective face.

"Relax," she sighed in disgust, turning away from him and crossing the small room. "I'm not going to hurt you. Although I was tempted to bust a few of these bottles over your head just to wake you up."

"Yournotevil," he breathed in relief, collapsing back on his mountain of pillows.

"I'm sorry?" she asked cheerfully.

"You're not evil," Sirius replied, forcing himself to sit up. Pushing the blankets off of him, he stood up on wobbly legs before collapsing back on his bed. Faith watched him for a moment before turning away.

"You know," she said softly, "I thought I had a mother for a drunk; turns out she was only dating my older brother. I didn't think the other one would travel that same path."

"You have no idea what it's like to be in this house again," he snapped, folding his arms as he got to his knees on his bed. "To be alone… you have no idea?"

A shadow passed over her face. "That's where you're wrong. I've got horror stories that will dampen your little hangover." Her eyes grew very cold. "Now, get up. We have to talk. I know it's about two in the morning, but we really need to talk. I'll be downstairs. And…" She turned back to face him, watching as he wrestled with his blankets. "If you think about passing out… next time, it'll be _you _going out the door."

With that, she stalked out of his bedroom, opening the broken door and shutting it with a snap behind her again.

Hearing her angry footsteps stomp down the hall, he sighed and got to his feet again, stumbling towards his door. "Bloody hell," he murmured, kicking another splinter of the door aside as he fell into the hallway. He couldn't believe she was here now… and at this ungodly hour!

A sudden chill overcame him as his thought returned to the present with an unpleasant lurch. Why was Faith back? And what the hell was she doing in this house?

Before he could answer, however, his knees found Faith's suitcase at the top of the landing and with his arms flailing like a windmill, he crashed down the stairs, one by one, until he reached the bottom. As he got up, scowling, he felt that though Faith wasn't evil, she was going to kill him with these antics anyway!

x-o-x

"Mm, Dad, it looks great," Dawn said, sitting down at the dining room table. Harry sat across from Dawn, next to his sister who gave him a fond look. Their parents took their respective spots at the head of the table before everyone sat down and began to pass dishes about. "Which place did you guys get this time?"

"This new place called Jun-Xi," Lily replied with a giggle, ignoring the scathing look her husband sent her. "Cashew chicken, Dawn?"

Buffy sat at the table, watching as her family went through the normal routine of table banter and small, petty arguments over questionable assignments and who was asking who out next. She ate silently, not touching the food but observing everyone at the table.

Her mother was kind and gracious, her emerald eyes sparkling as she ate a plateful of Chinese vegetables and drank mulled mead. Her father was glowering as most of her family's teasing comments were directed at him. Hiding behind his spectacles and his messy black hair, he only looked up and winked at Buffy a few times. He ate the most, piling everything on his plate and eating it without a concern of what mixed with what. He seemed to take particular interest in peapods, for some reason, picking them out of one box before moving onto the next.

Harry was the most talkative one; when he wasn't teasing Dawn, he was teasing his father about having to wear bifocals on the job. He kept teasing Dawn about her new boyfriend while stuffing his face full with whatever happened to be in front of them. Dawn sat between her mother and Harry, tossing her hair over her shoulders and taking in such a strange tone of voice that Buffy thought her sister must have taken a few shots before dinner.

"Like, whatever he said… I didn't like it. And what was the deal with those goals anyway? He didn't have to, like, show off in front of that to me. Maybe to my friends, like, but not to me…"

Hearing Dawn talk like this was giving her sort of a warm memory, like something she should recall but couldn't quite get there. It was comforting to hear Dawn talk like this. Maybe, in her youth, she talked like this giddy teenager, too.

"Well…" James said, finally placing his fork down and reaching for his water glass. "I, for one, am glad we have another member of the Potter family at the table tonight."

Harry and Dawn, who had been arguing about which color to paint their mutual recreation room, fell silent.

"Yes, honey," Lily said, glaring pointedly at her other two children. "We are quite blessed to have you back, Elise. We hope you enjoyed dinner tonight. And we apologize for being such lousy cooks."

"Kind of makes me feel glad that I'm the best cook in the family," Harry grinned, setting his own fork and knife down. "Do you remember that one time that Mom made that strawberry pie and it could move on its own?"

"Uh… no," Buffy said shyly, glancing back down at her plate. Frowning, she noticed it was still quite full. She realized then that she had been so busy observing her family that she hadn't bothered to take a bite. Giving a nervous laugh, she began to pick at her food again.

"Are you not hungry?" James asked, leaning across the table to look at her.

"No," she protested, slapping his hand as he attempted to pull her plate away. "I'm… hey, stop it!"

"James, leave her be," Lily teased with a knowing smile, leaning back in her seat. "Oh, my… Jun-Xi is definitely one heck of a cook. Blimey, I must add that number to our screen."

Buffy didn't really have any idea what she was talking about, but she chewed thoughtfully on her cashew chicken as James and Harry began clearing the table. A few minutes later, Buffy surrendered her plate, but watched curiously as everyone returned to the table. A few moments later, Buffy opened her mouth to ask why when James suddenly leaned forward.

"Now, Elise…"

"Yes, Dad?"

He gave her a pained look. "Uh… your mother and I…"

"What your father is badly attempting to say is that we have a conference next weekend," Lily told her daughter calmly. "He and I were both signed on to go and we're both going. It only lasts three days. You are more than welcome to stay here if you wish, but…"

"What about my lacrosse tournament?" Dawn asked, pouting in a slightly familiar way as she turned to look at their mother. "Mom… you told me I could go ages ago."

"I know I did," Lily said in a voice of well-practiced patience. "And you will… after shelling out a few hundred Pounds for that, I'm glad we've talked you into going."

"Oh, thanks," Dawn muttered, blushing.

"And you, Harry?" James asked, pouring the rest of the water from the pitcher into his glass and leaning back in his chair. "What are your weekend plans?"

"I was going to stay at a friend's," Harry replied solemnly. "That and the… oh…" His eyes grew round as he turned to look at Buffy. "Oy."

"Oh?" Buffy asked, glancing between her brother and her father. What was going on? "What is it?" she asked softly.

"The Chairman's Charity Ball is coming up on Saturday night," Lily said quietly, reaching across the table to take Buffy's hand. "You and Cedric had been slated to go for almost four months now. It would be a rotten shame if you didn't get to go. He has been so looking forward to it."

"What would have happened if I didn't wake up?" Buffy asked. She had the feeling someone wasn't telling her something and it was starting to make her feel grumpy.

"He would not have gone," James said sharply, glaring at Dawn, who had been about to speak. "He was looking forward to this night for a reason."

"Great," Buffy sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"Oh, honey, no one is forcing you to go if you do not wish to," Lily replied, squeezing Buffy's hand before releasing it. "We do not wish to force you into anything. We know that you're probably going to feel a lot of pressure while you're still trying to figure things out, and that's okay."

"Kids, meet your Mom, the shrink," James joked.

"Hardly a time for that," Lily replied, glaring at her husband with mock-venom. "Elise… Cedric had this evening planned out for a long time. If you feel that you can be comfortable with him in a week's time, you should go. It is one of the most beautiful events in the city and it is hosted by his parents. Up until a few months ago, they were not so keen about you."

"I must have hated them, too," Buffy muttered under her breath. Sighing in resignation, she shrugged. "Okay, I'll go… only if I can spend some time with him again."

Actually, that part wasn't so hard. Cedric was a very good looking young man and the way he spoke of their life together… she _really _wanted that life.

"We thought that's what you might say," James said slyly as the doorbell rang. "We invited him for tea, if you don't mind."

For a moment, it seemed as though the four other Potters were holding their breaths.

"Not at all," Buffy said, getting to her feet. "And if _you _don't mind, I'm going to let him in."

Lily gave her a bright smile as Buffy walked around her chair back towards the front door. Once she reached it, she smoothed down her hair and stared at her short skirt and blouse top. Smiling, she opened the door and saw a young man standing with his back to her. When he turned around, she saw that he had a single flower in his hand. It was a white rose. He handed it to her as he stepped inside.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

"Not too bad," Buffy said, setting the rose on the table as they stood in the entryway. She suddenly felt cramped trying to figure out this amazing relationship with this young man in her parents' home. "Do you want to take a walk?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, beaming at her as she opened the door again. "It's a beautiful night out."

"That's what I thought," she grinned back before turning to see Harry coming up behind her. "We're going for a walk. Tell Mom and Dad we'll be back… whenever."

As she disappeared, Harry shut the door and grinned. "Take your time."

Once outside, Buffy breathed in the sweet autumn air as she and Cedric walked down the sidewalk to a small park nearby. They didn't say much, but he at least was bold enough to take her hand, swinging it slightly as they continued moving.

"I used to take you here after we first starting going out," he said thoughtfully as they walked past the gate and the small memorial plaque. "You used to come here often… you found it a peaceful getaway from whenever your parents were being… well, parents."

"It is pretty here," she replied, looking around. It seemed peaceful even in the dark. There were two ponds just visible behind large, swaying trees. As she continued to walk, she caught a familiar glimpse of something… a bench and a fountain. Frowning, she let go of Cedric's hand as she moved towards the fountain. "I remember this place," she murmured. "I… I used to come here when Harry and I used to fight… or when my parents were… but wow… I didn't think I'd ever remember anything and…" She turned around and gave Cedric a sly look. "You gave me that ring here, didn't you?"

"You mean that one?" he asked, gently reaching for her hand.

She beamed at the simple silver ring that sat on the middle finger of her right hand. It was carved with a tiny inscription. "This one… and it was because you said you loved me."

He was smiling at her again. It was a slow, stunning smile that made her heart fall out of beat for a moment. She wanted so badly to remember her life with Cedric because, for the moment, it seemed to be the most beautiful things in her life. She had seen many stunning moments since she'd awakened just a few days ago. She had hugged her mother, she had heard her father's laughter, she had seen her siblings argue… and she had met him again.

It was like falling in love with a life that wasn't hers.

x-o-x

Giles walked into the simple white room in the Bulgarian mansion they were staying at. Buffy lay in the middle of the bed, immobile. Her skin felt like marble and she was already starting to lose weight from not receiving any nutrients. Pulling out the last of the emergency IV bags, he carefully tagged it to the metallic pole that rested on the opposite side of the bed and gently replaced it. He didn't know what they were going to do if it ran out.

He leaned over, lifting the edge of her shirt. Her Slayer powers had already healed the wound to her abdomen, but it was extremely slow to heal whatever toxin was in her system.

"Rupert…"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Irene," he said curtly, turning away from her as he pulled the blanket back up to Buffy's shoulders.

"I wanted to let you know that I have contacted the British Ministry of Magic," she said in a low voice. "I have asked them to inform her brother that Buffy was injured."

"Do you really think that will spare you when Harry comes in a rampage looking for the morons who wounded her?" he asked, pinching his nose in frustration.

"It seems to me that the bigger problem is figuring out who poisoned her."

Giles frowned, turning to look at the abominable woman. "What in the hell—"

"I do not believe that the Ministry of Magic would poison her," Irene began in her sniffled little tone.

"And I hardly believe the bad guys would poison one of their own," Giles retaliated, getting to his feet and turning to her. "In fact, I don't think you've been straight with me from the start. I really don't believe that you had Buffy's best interest at heart. And you obviously don't care for the lives of your vampire hunters."

"How dare you insinuate that I would risk the lives of those under my command?" she asked, cold fury etched in every line of her iron face.

"Perhaps because it is the truth," Giles snapped. "I hardly think your vampire hunters are trained well enough under a controlled hunt, much less let loose in a forest and given weapons which they use to shoot their own teammate."

"Perhaps your Slayer was being careless," Irene countered, her perfect nostrils flaring as she advanced on him, her one hand flying to the side in an angry gesture. "Perhaps she was directly in the line of fire!"

"Or perhaps this was all a mere accident as I said it was before we began arguing," Giles roared, leaping to his feet and towering over the stupid woman. "And this is just a petty fight that isn't getting us anywhere."

"Oh, but I feel it is getting us somewhere," she replied, pulling out her wand and aiming it at him. "I would very much like to hurt you right now."

"You forget," he said through clenched teeth, "that I _trained _her…"

"Without her superpowers though, you are just another arrogant fool talking about that which he doesn't understand," Irene Ironton said, blinking coldly up at him.

"And you're a useless wretch that hides behind the safety of magic," he sneered, staring down the wand which was pointed directly between his eyes. "I dare you to use it. Pull out your magical stops on me; I can hardly stop you."

He noticed that her jaw was beginning to twitch until they heard a new voice at the door.

"Mister Giles, Mrs. Ironton, what are you doing?" Tomas asked, walking into the room. Seeing Giles standing their goading Irene Ironton into performing illegal magic on him was not something they saw everyday, but Tomas felt the need to separate the two rational adults before they lost control of the situation completely. "Please, Mrs. Ironton, put your wand down."

"Get out of here Tomas before he starts accusing you of hurting his Slayer next," she snarled.

"Or what, you'll hex him?" Giles asked. He was starting to enjoy himself. Seeing Irene Ironton as more than a conniving witch with a bad temper tantrum was only proof to him that the British Ministry of Magic had sent the most inept person imaginable to deal with Buffy. This only meant one thing – that they trusted her enough to do the right thing.

The only problem was… did they send the poison as a backup plan? Or was this something else entirely.

Tomas's angry voice broke through his thoughts and Giles realized that Irene was now threatening her own student with her wand.

"Oh, for crying out loud," he snapped, marching over and plucking the wand from Irene's hand. At her vehement shriek and Tomas's angry bellow, he managed to kick them both out of Buffy's private room, flung the wand out after them, and closed the door with a sharp snap.

"Besides," he muttered under his breath. "There's one thing you don't know about me… and that's the fact that _I _use magic, too."

x-o-x

Faith was sitting at the dining room table when Sirius stumbled in. Throwing her a dark glare, he sat down on the bench, massaging his knees and cursing her health under his breath. After a moment, she shoved her cup of coffee towards him. "Drink it," she deadpanned. "It'll help."

"It'll help what?" he demanded, pushing the coffee back towards her with such force that it spilled onto the table. Her gaze darkened. "I was doing fine here before you showed up."

"Oh, right… you're fine for company, is that it?" she asked, pushing the coffee back. "You're actually stone-cold sober for these little meetings but decide to be a drunk the rest of the time? I don't think so. Do you remember my mother? Or… I guess I should call her my fake mother. The one that got drunk and high and eventually overdosed and killed herself? Yeah… I didn't think you did."

"What do you want from me?" he slurred, pushing the mug back at her, hoping this time to at least dump some of it on her high-and-mighty face.

"I want you to act like an adult and be my brother right now," she snarled, practically throwing the cup at him. He watched as it landed one inch shy of falling off the table. It was almost amusing to note that there was more coffee on the table now than there was in the stupid mug.

"And why do you care if I'm here?" he asked, snatching the mug. "I thought for sure the first place you'd go back to would be your _darling _Harry Potter."

This time she didn't bother stopping the mug as it sailed back towards her. Instead, it tipped off the edge of the table, smashing onto the wooden floor. She didn't take her eyes from his face. "You're my brother," she whispered in a voice full of an undercurrent he couldn't quite identify. "I helped bring you back into this world… I want to know you're okay."

"I've been taking care of myself," he replied coldly, focusing on her face through his drunken fog. "I've been taking care of myself since I was twelve."

"That isn't the point," she cried and for a moment he thought she was going to break down and cry in front of him. "The point is, I need you alive. I need to make sure you're okay and you're not going to, well, just bite it and think that death isn't quite so bad."

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed her face. "What are you saying?"

"You're in the middle of a war, Sirius," Faith replied quietly, standing up and placing her hands flat on the table. "People are going to die. I just want to make sure that when the time comes, you can still do your part."

"What about you?" Sirius asked, suddenly realizing where this conversation was going as he stood up, nearly falling onto the table.

She just looked bleakly at him before sinking back to the bench. "I… I…"

"Faith?"

"No, don't touch me," she snapped, backing away from him, slamming into a cabinet in her haste to do so. "You're a drunk and you're pathetic and if you're going to leave me…"

"Why do you think I'd leave you?" he asked, forcing his brain to understand. He couldn't help but chuckle at the venomous look on her face.

"My Mom left me alone," she replied, staring hard at him. "You're my only family here, Sirius."

"Not entirely true," he murmured. "There are always the Malfoys… and the Tonks…"

"You know what I mean."

He was sure he did. Even though he had taken half a pint with him that night, his alcohol-fazed mind did get one point through – she was worried about him. The other members of the Order were so busy trying to find out what Voldemort was up to and why he had tagged the two Slayers that they hadn't even thought of him since his return from certain death.

Except Faith… his sister had come back for him, despite their odd and slightly awkward relationship. He had never met her before his return from death. He never even knew he _had _a kid sister until a few nights before he died.

And the thought of losing the one person who actually gave a damn…

x-o-x

Lucius Malfoy swept gracefully across the dark grounds, sneering at the new moon and the thousands of stars sparkling. As the night faded towards dawn, the faintest tint of pink appeared on the horizon, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Turning to face the others with him, his eyes widened as he saw another figure approach wearing a caustic smile and a mad little gleam in his eye. "I didn't expect you to join us so soon," he drawled slowly, bringing up his walking stick and shaking it in the shorter man's face.

"Nor did I," the other voice replied simply as the figure turned dull eyes to stare at the remainder of night. "Do we wait?"

"We _must _wait for the signal, don't you know?" Lucius smirked before turning his gaze to the other Death Eaters. "Have you seen the signal?"

"I have not," came a harsh female voice as Bellatrix Lestrange joined them. "An interesting choice here, Lucius," she said, glaring at the figure standing on Lucius's opposite side, staring at the horizon thoughtfully. "To bring him to the open so soon…"

"As if there is a problem with that?" the figure asked kindly, shaking his head. "It is about time I assert my, ah, power."

"After hiding like a whipped child," Bellatrix sneered, her lip curling against her teeth. "Such cowardice should have been rewarded with death…"

"Oh, I will die," the figure replied cheerfully. "We all will. Not all of us have gone to such, ah, an extreme in uncovering the realm of immortality as our dear Dark Lord has."

"Hear, hear," Lucius murmured, distracted.

Bellatrix shot him a cold look. "I was told that we would be leading this _alone, _Malfoy," she deadpanned coolly.

"My dear Bella," he said, giving her a cold look, "you should expect that things would change now. This is our ticket to the Potter boy."

"We should have made his sister kill him," she retorted, turning to glare at the third figure again before marching away.

"All in good time, dear Bella," Lucius called after her. Turning back to the figure still standing at his elbow, he added, "You could do your part, you know."

"Ah, forgive me, Lucius, my old friend," the figure replied, pulling out an older wand and aiming it to the sky. "Sometimes… even my older mind forgets."

"Just ensure it will not happen again," Lucius hissed through clenched teeth.

"Too right you are," the figure said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he stretched his arm to the sky and sent off a jet of emerald sparks. A few seconds later, streaks of white began filling in across the sky. As he saw the light reflected in Lucius' eyes, he chuckled. "Relax, old friend…" he murmured. "I feel today will be a beautiful day."

"Only if you are not within the putrid Ministry," he added with a sly smirk.

"Oh, and there's always that…"

x-o-x

Harry Potter was sitting down to breakfast early on Monday morning when he suddenly felt the most peculiar feeling. Swallowing the last of his porridge, he glanced up at the staff table. His eyes switched to Snape.

Professor Snape had just grimaced, his left hand moving to his right arm.

In an instant Harry knew that whatever Snape had felt was nothing good…

Before he could comment on it though, he felt someone sit next to him. It was Hermione. She held a letter in her hand and was looking quite concerned. "Harry?" she asked, nudging his side. "Harry… this came for you. It's from the Ministry of Magic. Harry, the letter is urgent… what?"

As he had refused to answer or even look in her direction, she had followed his line of sight until she glanced at Professor Snape. He was still scowling and had covered his arm. A moment later, he rose and swept down the crowded aisles, out of sight.

"What in the bloody hell was that about?" Ron asked, joining the others at last. His eyes widened when he saw the panic-stricken look on Harry's face. "What?"

"The Dark Mark," Harry murmured. "It's hurting him."

"What do you think is happening?" Hermione squeaked.

"I don't know… but whatever it is, it isn't good."

x-o-x

As she lay down to sleep, Buffy turned onto her back and lifted her arms in the air. It was then that she caught something on her forearm. Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at it. Just visible under her skin was a pale mark that looked like a skull with a snake protruding through its mouth.

How odd, she thought to herself. She hadn't remembered this tattoo while she was in the shower today… or when she was with Cedric… definitely not during their goodnight kiss…

Her fingers traced the tattoo and she put her arm back down, resigned to ask her parents about it in the morning.

x-o-x

Giles had been waiting for something like this. When Buffy began to writhe as though in agony on her bed, he knew the first place to look. Yanking down the blanket, he pushed up the sleeve of her arm and saw that the mark on her arm had turned black.

x-o-x

Faith was sleeping when suddenly she felt as though her arm was on fire. Opening her eyes, she saw that the Dark Mark on her right arm had turned black. Moaning, she pressed as hard as she dared against it, desperate for the pain to stop…

… while the other half of her wondered what damage the Death Eaters were causing now…

x-x-x-x

To be continued…

x-x-x-x-

**_Next Chapter_**: The Death Eaters strike… Buffy sinks deeper into her coma… Faith makes her choice… and Draco makes his.

Note - The past two chapters were pretty heavily Buffy-related. The next few will tip back into the Potter side of things.

**_Reviewer Comments_**: I'm doing this anyway… mainly because there aren't that many reviewers and basically because this keeps my thoughts on the mark.

Lightdemondarkangel: Well, you're welcome. I felt guilty and thought maybe I should finish this story as long as I had a good outline for it. This mysterious man in Buffy's life isn't anyone bad - don't worry. Buffy's dreamlike state will be like being inside joy. This chapter should explain a bit more, but it also leaves some gaps. As for length... my outline says 24, but I'm hoping 20. Realistically though… there is still a lot of story to tell.

VaMpEdChiK: Thank you for your kind review!

sparky24: Thank you for the compliments! If you were wondering who the "man" is, I think this chapter just about explained everything.

Naitch03: Hmm... Good observations there! This chapter explained who Buffy's beau is... and as he was a brunet, it wasn't Draco. Giles is definitely a target, but not the target you think. Willow and Tara are definitely going to 'lend a hand', but for a different reason than you might expect. Faith back in London is going to be rather interesting, but unfortunately cliché. As for the Death Eater, well... yes, they were in the first story. The answer becomes pretty obvious by the time we get to the next little chapter.

Nikki: That was the effect I was going for… Buffy having this strange, happy world we don't want her to leave… until she's good and ready, anyway. Thank you for your review!


	10. Turn of the Tide, Part I

_**Note: **I have to thank my beta reader Grace for her help with this chapter. Without my action beta in stride, this chapter would have been ridiculous. I will also apologize for it taking me four months to update again. Life has been rough. Let's just leave it at that. This chapter is a bit longer for those of you who have been waiting for this story to continue... well, here you go! Enjoy!_

_**Chapter Summary**: The Death Eaters strike at the heart of the Ministry of Magic with dire consequences; Buffy falls deeper into her coma as her new life far outshines the other; Faith must make the choice about coming back into Harry's life; Draco must make the ultimate choice about which side he's really on; a traitor is revealed in Bulgaria… _

_**Warning: **These next few chapters are dark, just to be warned…_

**Chapter 10**

**Turn of the Tide**

**Part I**

x-o-o-x

"Do we weep for the heroes who died for us, who living were true and tried for us?" - A. Ryan

Emma Vance strolled through the Ministry of Magic early that Thursday morning, a stack of files tucked against her black robes. Her steps were crisp and precise as she made her way to the Atrium and to the vaults near the bottom levels. As the newest recorder for the Wizengamot, she had many files to obtain, make notes to and shift around. She passed several other Witches and Wizards, flashing a smile to them. Those who knew her name nodded and said words of welcome. Others passed with the slightly-wary look that came from the early morning hour.

Once down below, she walked through the narrow halls, smiling at the twinkling lights from above. Reaching the vault, she disappeared inside, tucking her files under her arm.

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't hear the dull thuds several stories above her head. It was only when she heard a loud crash did she realize how long she'd been down here. When the crash was followed by a scream, however…

Taking a new stack of files, she closed the heavy vault door and walked towards the elevator gate at the opposite end of the corridor. The sounds several levels up had not yet stopped; in fact, they were getting louder. Raising suspicious eyes, she set the stack of files aside and moved to the grate, staring upwards.

It was then that the emergency lights along the floors lit up. She stared for one moment at the bright purple lights, her heart thundering in her chest. Something was terribly wrong upstairs, she could sense the rousing danger… racing for the elevator, she yanked open the grate and tucked herself in, calling "Atrium!" as she went. The cage doors closed; the files lay open and forgotten on a small table only a few feet away.

x-o-x

Percy Weasley was wedged between his desk and a large lamp as he searched for some scroll that Minister Fudge had been looking for. To be honest with himself, he knew he couldn't remember exactly what he was looking for. Despite how important this job was to him, there were more important things on his mind – Elizabeth Potter, for one. He had been the first person informed that Buffy had been gravely wounded in Bulgaria. It was because of the Ministry of Magic she had been sent there in the first place and, for once, Percy felt a feeling of deep disgust for the office he worked for. He had fought so hard to keep this office, he thought sadly, his hand passing over the note that Cornelius Fudge had actually requested.

He heard a crash down the hallway and turned, frowning. Normally things went off with a bang and it didn't set him off; he'd had far too much experience around Fred and George for something like that to happen. But there was something almost peculiar about this sound.

Turning, he snatched the entire stack on his desk and marched to Fudge's office. The portly man sat inside, talking with a short, stout woman known to them both as Dolores Umbridge. Though detested by all at Hogwarts, Percy had a great deal of respect for her.

He heard the sound again: a dull thud like an explosion. "Sir," he said, clearing his throat and knocking on the frame. "I have those papers you asked for."

"Just leave them there," Minister Fudge said, nodding to a cleared-off corner of his desk. "I was just discussing Miss Potter's position here with Dolores. We are all of the belief that she should be brought back to England immediately."

Percy felt his jaw tighten as he recalled the look on Buffy's face when she found out she was going to Bulgaria. "When?" he asked coolly.

"We need to clear a few things first," Dolores said gently in that soft, breathless voice she often used. "For one, her injuries need to be treated."

Percy wanted to throttle that demure beam right off of her face. He also was tempted to point out the fact that Buffy was a vampire Slayer and with that responsibility came her body's ability to heal itself completely. If she wasn't healing, something was terribly wrong. But before he could voice his opinions, he heard a shrill scream from the hallway.

The door to the Minister's office burst open and a figure came flying in breathlessly. "Minister!" she shrieked. "Death Eaters… in the Atrium!"

"What?" all three bodies inside questioned.

"Sir… they've got…" Her eyes bugged out as though she recalled seeing something so terrible she couldn't reveal it again. "They've got…"

"Weasley, get Jenkins here a glass of water and calm her down," he barked, brandishing his wand and turning to Dolores. "I want you to get all of the staff together and prepare for emergency departures."

"You… you can't," Jenkins gasped after she had taken a sip of water out of the cup Percy had handed to her. "They… they've put some sort of charm… you can't Disapparate in. There's only one way out and that's…" She moaned under her breath.

Then came the sound of a loud explosion. Percy felt the floor beneath his feet tremble and he, too, pulled out his wand. "We've got to do something," Percy said in a controlled voice; it was what his friends would do given this same situation.

"Right you are," Minister Fudge said after taking a deep breath. "You must find Amelia Bones and Rufus… yes, they must be found. Dolores, if you can find a way to escape, please do." He turned to the ugly portrait hanging over the back of his desk. "And you… we will need to send a warning to Hogwarts saying that the Ministry of Magic is under attack."

The man just walked clearly out of the frame, leaving Percy feeling quite alone.

"Weasley!"

"Right," he muttered, turning to run out of the office. "Right."

x-o-x

Nymphadora Tonks was seated in the busy Auror office, sipping from a cup of tea when the alarm first sounded. Getting to her feet, she saw that the rest of the Aurors were looking around in obvious confusion. She knew the alarm was triggered by the Wizard who ran the security desk in the Atrium. Perhaps he was just fooling around – it wouldn't be the first time. Pressing her lips together, she pushed herself back into her seat and forced herself to stare hard at the papers in front of her. Given the state of open war in their country now, it wouldn't make much sense to sound a false alarm.

A few moments later, though, she looked up again as several Aurors walked out of the office. The incoherent sound of shouting was drifting into the office from the exterior. Tonks stood up and sighed, walking to the doorway where she was met by Arthur Weasley. "What do you think this is?" she asked calmly.

"Likely another false alarm or so Perkins said," Arthur replied, frowning slightly. His clear eyes were trained on the end of the corridor. "Although, for the moment I'm not sure."

"Nor am I," Tonks said slowly after hearing a crash from below. "Something is happening." Turning to glance at the Aurors in her office, she made her way to the end of the hall just as the sound of an explosion threw them off of their feet. Tonks landed hard on the floor just as the lights above them flickered twice before plunging the hall into darkness. The only thing visible was the dull light pouring through the fog in the windows. _What a day for the weather people to decide on a foggy morning! _

"Tonks!"

The young woman spun around just as Arthur Weasley grabbed her arm. They made their way through the confusion to the elevator. Ducking inside, they were met a floor above by Emmeline Vance. She, too, wore a confused look. "We heard the explosion," she said, shaking her dark-curled head, "but we don't know what's going on upstairs. I'm going to find my daughter."

"And I should find my son," Arthur murmured on his breath.

Without warning, the elevator jerked to a stop, throwing all inside the cage onto the floor. After untangling themselves, they all stood up and stared at the flickering lamp over their heads.

"Damn it," Arthur whispered under his breath.

x-o-x

With his usual gliding grace, Lucius Malfoy strolled into the Atrium, sneering at the bodies along the floor. Eric, the usual Wizard who occupied the security desk, was lying against one of the Grecian columns. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling with a look of startled amazement on his face. There were others as well, but nothing compared to the trouble the little treat his mysterious trump card was causing.

There was another grand explosion as a second fireplace was blown from the wall, crashing across the Atrium, leaving deep gouges in the walls. Hearing the sound of an elevator approaching, he lifted his wand just as another figure swept into the room. Bellatrix Lestrange was gazing around the Atrium with a fond look on her face. "The last time I was here, I murdered my dear cousin," she breathed.

"Shall we repeat that victory?" Lucius asked, stretching out his arms as she gestured to the approaching elevator. "Surely our dear friend would have moved on by now."

There was another explosion, one that seemed to make the entire room shake. Turning, both Lucius and Bella spied a deep crevice in the floor that was widening. The third Death Eater arrived and with him was an army of pearly-white figures that flashed like lightning. Though they were transparent, they still had figures. At this moment, each one stared forward with socket-less eyes, completely under the thrall of the man who held them magically bound.

"I think we should send our new friends to visit the others," Lucius smirked, watching as the third figure moved forward with a hint of flourish in his older face.

"I believe that would be a plan."

"Are you certain your mental state can control them for so long?" Bella asked sardonically as she flexed out her own wand-arm, tired after so many years of waiting for a victory such as todays.

"After years of training potential Slayers, I believe I have the advantage to control something even more brainless," the figure sneered.

And, without warning, the elevator doors opened. Immediately the figures inside were ambushed, their bodies falling forward. Using a quick flick to push them all aside, Bella strode into the elevator and reached for the controls, her eyes gleaming. "Going down!" she cackled as the heavy golden doors closed on her face.

"And you?" Lucius asked, turning to the figure at his elbow.

"Our methods are less common," the figure replied heartily. Turning, he flicked his wand and the Inferius, the most dreaded ally of the Dark Lord to date, turned and began burrowing into the floor again. As they crashed through the layers of magical materials, they created such sound that the building trembled. After a moment, Lucius stared at the crater before a slow smile spread across his face. As the other figure hopped down into the gap, the doors from the visitors entrance burst open and more Death Eaters poured in, led by Bella's rather familiar husband. His manic eyes calmed as he saw Lucius Malfoy.

"Ah, my old friend," Lucius said, walking over to him with his walking stick. "Welcome to our greatest moment of victory."

"It will only be victory once all opposed to us are dead," he replied with a mad laugh. "I want to see their bodies melt at the Inferi touch… I want to hear them _scream _after what they did to us."

"You may have your chance," Lucius replied, stepping over and placing his hand on the wall. "I didn't spend this many years playing nice with the Ministry without learning of their weaknesses. Falling for a trap so cleverly devised by your wife is definitely one of them." Turning, he tapped his wand against the wall to trigger the alarm. Hearing the sounds of panic breaking out across the Atrium, the Death Eaters began to space themselves out and lie in wait for the ambush to come.

x-o-x

Even when the cage stopped, Emma knew it wasn't anything good. She stared up as the lights flickered and went out. "Lumos," she whispered, igniting the tip of her wand. Lifting it up, she walked to the doors and slid the grate, finding herself between floors. A narrow gap of light was only a few feet up, but she knew instantly from the screaming that it would be futile for her to attempt to escape. She needed to get to the atrium. That much was for certain.

"Ascendio," she murmured, tapping on the panel. Instantly, the elevator came to life and continued to lift, but acted as though it were under great strain. "What the—"

Suddenly, the top of the elevator caved in as two figures suddenly appeared. White and human-like they were, but there was no warmth in those cold gazes, nor eyes to look upon them. Emma screamed as she scampered towards the edge of the elevator. She searched her thoughts frantically as the two figures bore down upon her. Nothing from her former Defense Against the Dark Arts classes came to mind as she backed into a corner, bringing her wand up to protect herself. A shaped, white skeletal hand was reaching for her now. She knew that instant death awaited those who were touched by the hand of an Inferius.

"Help, oh help, oh help," she whimpered, trembling. As she moved, she felt something dig into her back. It was one of the lines from the conduit that had exploded when the Inferi had made their way into her elevator cabin. Her mind coming up with the one thing she could think of, she reached back and grasped the cold, rubber tubing. The hand was only a foot away from her chest now, so she knew she had to act quickly. Bringing her other arm around, she jammed the live electrical charge into the Inferius, which recoiled, falling back. The other hissed and jumped, clearing the elevator completely. As the other struggled with bright blue electricity flashing through its body, Emma surged forward and grasped the grate, sliding it open. The floor was only a few feet up now and she quickly made to climb out.

She knew she was far from safety. Grabbing the floor above her, she hoisted herself onto the level with one knee, moving to bring the other forward. It was then she heard a cry unlike anything she had heard before. Her body froze, paralyzed with fear. Terrified, she struggled to squeeze through the small gap between the elevator shaft and the floor. Before she could move however, she felt the coldest sensation as the hand of the Inferius wrapped around her flailing ankle.

"AHHHHH!" she screamed, collapsing forward and half-sliding back towards the cage. She knew that if she fell back into the elevator, she would die. Wave after wave of pain stunned her body as she struggled to hold onto the floor. But there was nothing else to hold onto. Ice-cold pain washed over her and her mind numbed. Her ankle felt like it was melting, the chilling sensation rising to her throat. Struggling to remain conscious, she pulled herself forward, kicking her uninjured foot and making contact with the Inferius.

The elevator's cage groaned and the Inferius shrieked, leaping out the top of the cage.

Panting, Emma moved forward as the elevator began to shift. She felt the cage going up and the second the floor of the elevator was level with the corridor, she leapt from the cage back onto the floor, rolling twice before she stopped.

And then she passed out.

x-o-x

"Faith? Are you all right? Answer me, Faith!"

Faith felt like her entire body was on fire. Everything burned from the blackened Dark Mark on her forearm. Blanching, Sirius grabbed his younger sister by the shoulders and throttled her. Faith's head bobbed back and forth, but she did not awaken.

Her face was tense, like she was trying to fight off something so great that it required every last ounce of energy. Her body was slack in his arms, but he refused to let her go. "Faith?" he whispered. "Faith?"

All at once, her eyes opened and she stared at him. At that moment, he felt fear like he had never had before. "Harry," she breathed.

"What?" he asked incredulously, setting her body back in her bed.

"Harry's in danger," she said, her eyes suddenly flashing with determination. "I have to help him."

"How do you—"

"I felt it," she grimaced. "I felt…" She glanced at her arm where the Dark Mark had yet to fade. "They were called. I resisted."

"Does this mean the final battle's begun?" Sirius asked, examining her arm closely.

"Not yet," Faith replied. "I'm still alive, aren't I? If he really wanted to… he could have killed me. He could have killed us," she appended, her gaze darkening. "He could have and he didn't. That means he doesn't need us yet."

"That means he has something else planned," Sirius said. A sudden look of understanding flashed in his eyes and he dashed from the room.

"Sirius?" Faith asked, stumbling out of bed and landing face-first on the floor. "Sirius!" she shouted, flinging herself to her feet and tumbling out into the hallway. She could barely make out her brother's shadow as he ran downstairs. "What is it?"

"I need to know," came his muffled response. "I need to know where they are."

Faith fell panting against the wall as she heard her brother moving into the dining room below. A few moments later, she heard him curse loudly. "What is it?" she asked, making her way downstairs. Now that she control of her own body again, she could move freely. As she crossed the bottom step, Sirius came pelting out of the dining room and nearly knocked her over. "Sirius?"

"I tried Hogwarts," Sirius explained, out of breath as he pulled on a cloak. "I spoke with McGonagall directly. She said something about Snivellus."

"Snape?" Faith asked in disbelief as her brother raced back into the dining room. She attempted to keep up with him, still feeling a bit dizzy. "What does he got—"

"She said that everyone at Hogwarts was safe. But they lost contact with the Ministry of Magic about a half hour ago."

"The Ministry of… you mean the government is under attack?" Faith asked as Sirius grabbed the pot from the mantle and drew out a handful. "Sirius, where are you going?"

"To Hogwarts," Sirius replied, smoothing his wild mane of hair.

"If you're going to school, I'm going with you," Faith said, pushing him back and pulling down the small pot. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you go alone—"

Turning around, he grasped his sister by the shoulder. "You can't go, Faith. Nobody knows you've come back."

"Then I'll tell them," she persisted, yanking back the pot before he could take it from her. "If there's anything I can do to help Harry—"

"If you go back, you'll put him in even greater danger," Sirius said, seizing her forearm and holding it up, the black Mark flashing dangerously. "Faith, I need you to be patient, _please_. I'll tell them that you're back in England and maybe they'll ask for your help. Maybe they won't. But I need you to be patient. If there is anything you can do to help, I'll let you know, okay?" Faith blinked as she handed him the pot. "I don't want anything to happen to you. I certainly don't want anything to happen to him."

Faith felt tears of frustration in her eyes and blinked them away as she watched Sirius Floo out of the mansion. After he left, she sat heavily on the bench, staring down at her arm. The Mark still burned and it was a mark of her inner strength she didn't cry out. She felt like her entire body was on fire.

All she could do was wait and pray that whatever they were doing, it wasn't too bad. But she knew deep within herself that the Death Eaters weren't playing this time around.

Once at Hogwarts, Sirius stumbled out of the fire until a hand grasped his and pulled upward. Lifting his face, he stared into a pair of familiar amber eyes. "Remus," he said cordially, straightening and glanced around Professor McGonagall's office. "Minerva."

"The situation is direr than we first anticipated," Professor McGonagall explained, glancing at both men.

"I barely escaped before the barrier was put up," Remus said, turning to Sirius. "They have the entire Ministry blocked off. Those who could get out when the emergency signal was first broadcasted did. But so far, only a handful of Aurors, journalists and other personnel have been able to get out. Most of the Wizengamot was not working today. However, some of the members of the Order are still inside, including Arthur Weasley, Tonks, Alastor Moody and Emmeline Vance." He cleared his throat. "Most in the Obliviation department as well as those in the Department of Mysteries have not yet made it in. Many high officials, however, are still inside."

A dull silence filled the room.

"I think our top priority should be getting our people out of there," Sirius said, appealing to both of them.

"I think they planned a perfect attack myself," McGonagall said bitterly. "They have hit at the heart of the political leadership, the one medium trying to convince the people of our world that they're safe. If they're gone…"

"If they're gone, the Wizarding world is in a world of hurt," Remus agreed. "If the Ministry's top bodies are destroyed, there is nothing left to convince the Wizarding world that they stand a chance against Harry Potter. It would convince them that even he can't save us all."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but before he could get a word out a sudden shadow of a phoenix appeared in the office before fading away.

"Albus is calling us," McGonagall said, turning to both men. "You are both welcome to attend this meeting."

"We will," Remus said curtly, following her out.

As they stood at the base of the staircase guarded by the giant gargoyles, they were interrupted by Madam Sprout who came hurrying up to them. "I just received instructions to get the Hufflepuff students to their common room immediately," she said breathlessly.

"We will speak in Albus's office, Poppy," Minerva said, patting the other woman's arm. At that moment, the gargoyles separated and the four stood on the staircase as it wound around the column before coming to rest before a single door. After knocking twice, Minerva stepped inside the office.

Albus Dumbledore was standing with his back to them. His hands were clasped behind his back and his head was bowed. As the door closed behind them, he turned a weary face to the others. "It has begun," he said in a heavy tone.

"We know about the Ministry," Remus said quickly, stepping forward to explain.

Albus held up his hand and looked up. "The attack on the Ministry was not the only attack this morning."

"There are more?" a voice asked from behind the group. Turning, Sirius saw other faculty members crowding into the office behind him including, he saw with a sneer, Professor Snape.

"There have been a series of attacks," Albus said in a quiet, humbled voice. "Officials in the south have reported that two Giants have been on a rampage. Up north, a bridge collapsed and hundreds of Muggles have died. In the east, entire neighborhoods were wiped out… dozens of families were found dead in their homes. And in the west, an apparent earthquake has made an entire city sink below the Earth."

"In the center of it all, the Death Eaters chose this day to attack the Wizarding government," Minerva said quietly.

"Yes." Again, Albus bowed his head.

"If I may, Headmaster," Snape said, taking a few steps forward and pausing. Sirius noted that Snape's right hand curiously covered his left forearm. "There would be reason to assume that this has been planned for some time."

"How do you figure?" Remus asked politely, though a darker undercurrent wavered through his tone.

"Why would today be chosen?" Snape asked lightly, arching one eyebrow as he met Remus's cool gaze. "You see, the Dark Lord has waited in order to give our world a greater feeling of comfort. If we find we are not in danger, why should we worry?"

"Like you have anything to worry about," Sirius muttered under his breath.

"Nevertheless," Snape continued, his tone rising slightly, "the time for enduring a false sense of security is over. If the Minister for Magic and British seats for the International Confederation of Wizards have been compromised… there will no longer be a reason to feel safe. If they wanted to frighten the public, they have done a superior job."

"There is little that can be done to convince the people we are still in control of the problem," Albus agreed.

"This puts a great deal of pressure on Harry too, doesn't it?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, it will," Albus replied. "The Wizarding world may have lost great people today. We don't know the extent of the attack. We lost contact seconds after Remus here arrived at Hogwarts. All we know for sure is that they are facing a massacre of great proportions. All we can hope is that somehow, someway they will find a way out…"

x-o-x

"Here, here," Arthur Weasley said, bending down and helping Tonks out of the elevator shaft. After somehow managing to pry off the top of the cage, they had climbed up to the next level. Now Arthur, Tonks, Emmeline Vance and a few other Aurors they had picked up were cluttered together one level above the Atrium.

"This way is no use," one Auror said, coughing as he trudged back to the group. "The floor has caved in from above. There is no way through that corridor. I recommend trying this one."

"Right," Arthur said, taking charge as he ran a hand through his thinning hair. "We should split up. Our main goal is to get to the Atrium and get to the fireplaces to get the bloody hell out of here."

"I'll go with you," Tonks said, her pale face anxious.

"I'll lead a group this way," Emmeline Vance said, gesturing down a long dark corridor. As she spoke, a shower of sparks exploded from a set of wires running above the ceiling that had collapsed down. Even where they stood they could see a trail of something dark on the floor. It took Emmeline one moment to realize the trail was actually blood.

"Good luck," Arthur said, reaching out and shaking Emmeline's hand. A moment later the two groups separated, Arthur's group heading down the main corridor and to the left while Emmeline's group headed straight right.

"Lumos," Arthur whispered, lifting his barely lit wand and squinting in the darkness. He heard Tonks and several others mutter the same words and follow him cautiously down the corridor and around the corner.

What they saw as they turned was a massacre. Great holes were gouged into the walls, ceiling and floors. Office doors had been ripped and were lying in small piles of splinters. Small fires burned along the hallway. There were also a number of bodies that lined the wide corridor.

"Arthur," Tonks whispered, gesturing forward with her wand. Arthur quickly stepped forward, keeping his back along the wall as they passed a pile of mutated, bloodied corpses.

"I think I knew some of them," one of the Aurors said in a hushed, mortified voice behind them.

"It's likely we knew all of them," Arthur replied, frowning. "Something here seems out of place." As they passed through one of the vents in the floor, they saw the twisted metal and broken debris.

"Can we get through one of those?" Tonks asked softly.

"We might be playing right into their hands if we do," Arthur said grimly. "If they're in the Atrium, they could be waiting to pick us off one by one."

"What choice do we have, Weasley?" another Auror asked. "We need to get down one level and this is our best opportunity."

"If you wish to go down and meet your death, you are more than welcome to," Arthur snapped. "But we need to find a way to get down there safely and undetected."

"Wait," Tonks said, holding out her hand as she dropped to her knees, bending to place her ear near the floor. "Listen…"

Just one level below, they heard terrified screams and the sounds of manic laughter. And then, suddenly, there was silence.

"We have to keep going," Arthur said quietly. "We have to keep—"

A sudden hand pushed through the wall between him and another Auror.

"Oh, Merlin!" a voice gasped as several bodies stepped back. The Auror had no time to move as a second hand reached out and passed through the man's neck. His body shook and recoiled violently, his face growing increasingly red before small boils began to break out across his face. The scent of burning flesh filled the corridor as his throat and neck burned bright red before the hand came through, remnants of muscle and sinew coiling away. A moment later, the man fell face-forward through the gap and down the shaft.

Unfortunately, Tonks was still on the floor and her arm had been hooked around his leg.

"Tonks!" Arthur cried, watching as she fell face-first into the gap, held up only by her ankle. Arthur fell to his knees, his hands reaching to grab at her ankle. But before he could act, the Inferius came out of the wall, bursting out with such vigor the wall seemed to explode. More Aurors and others were thrown into the gaping hole, their screams only cut off as they hit the ground below in the atrium.

Arthur was forced to pull back to protect his face but thankfully one of the other Aurors had dove next to him and was holding one of Tonks' ankles.

"Don't let me go!" her voice screamed shrilly from beneath them. "Don't let me fall!"

But it was too late. The Inferius, sensing its prey, dove for the lone male. As its hands pushed through the man, he felt like he was being boiled alive. Stunned hands lifted up, leaving Tonks to fall. Arthur could only watch in horror as the man literally fell apart before his eyes.

And then Arthur saw himself as the last man standing. "Not good," he murmured, clutching his wand as he staggered back to his feet. "Not good…"

The Inferius turned to him with socket-less eyes, lifted its arms and began coming at him. Backing away slowly, foot over foot, he held out his wand. He knew he was alone as the rest in his group were dead including, he thought unpleasantly, Tonks. All he could do was turn and run. But his mind flew through many thoughts, trying to find something he could use to kill or at least slow down the figure moving zombie-like towards him. As the sound of screams increased just one story below, the Inferius looked up and Arthur Weasley could have swore it smiled.

It knows I'm doomed, he thought darkly to himself. Risking a quick glance behind him, he saw that he was running out of corridor. He would soon have to turn the corner and that could spell doom. He could find himself face-to-face with more Inferi or… even worse, he thought, there could be Dementors. There were many dark creatures at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-s disposal. All he wanted to do was find a way out and find his son. Percy must be so scared, Arthur thought, finding the last bit of corridor before he felt his back impact with a wall. Then he moved forward, frowning slightly. The wall behind him felt downright hot.

Hot? Heat! The only way to deter an Inferius was with heat!

Holding out his wand, he saw the white, transparent figure move towards him. Once it was within a few feet away, he found the word he was looking for and muttered it. "Incendio!"

A lash of hot flame flew from his wand. The Inferius shrieked a terrifying, otherworldly cry before it pushed upwards towards the ceiling.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Arthur turned his attention to the left where a narrow corridor branched off from the main corridor. Seeing nothing dangerous ahead of him, he broke into a run. He needed to get down below to find out of Tonks or any of the others had survived. He needed to get them out of there. And then he had to find his son.

Down several levels, Emma Vance finally stirred awake as someone was shaking her shoulder. "Mmm," she moaned, pressing a bruised hand to her forehead, which had been sliced open from impact against the floor.

"Are you all right?"

The voice was unfamiliar she thought as she turned on her back and stared up at a face that could only belong to a Weasley. "Who are you?" she murmured sleepily.

"Help me get her up," the figure said in response. A second figure appeared at Emma's opposite side. The next thing she knew they had tugged her to her feet. But as she set her weight on her ankle, she cried out in pain. The redheaded figure bent down to examine the bloodied foot. "The damage doesn't look too serious," he said, the panic in his voice belying his words.

"Here," said a voice in heavily-accented French. "Use this." With a single motion a tall, slender blonde whipped a shiny silver scarf from her neck and handed it to the redhead kneeling on the floor. He used the scarf as a makeshift bandage.

"What… what's happening?" Emma asked, swaying slightly as she grasped at the blonde who held onto her with an arm around her waist.

"Death Eaters are attacking the Ministry of Magic," the redhead said simply, rising back to his full height. "We need to get up to the Atrium."

"That's two levels up," Emma said stupidly, still feeling quite out of it even as they began to drag her forward.

"Luckily for us, they blasted holes in the floor so we can get through."

"Isn't that a bad thing?" Emma moaned as they moved quickly down the hallway.

"Fleur?"

The woman with blonde hair left Emma's side. She clutched at the redhead weakly. When she caught him examining the gash on her head, he quickly looked away. A moment later the blonde returned. "The corridor ahead is clear."

"We should hurry."

They turned the corner. As Emma began to regain feeling to her injured leg she began to move on her own. It helped when she had their support on either side as they seemed to move much faster.

All of a sudden, they seemed to stop. Emma forced herself to look up and saw through her foggy stare a single person standing in the middle of the hallway.

"What have we here?" a cold voice asked humorously.

The redhead next to Emma straightened up and stepped forward, letting go of the smaller girl, who nearly collapsed onto the blonde. "Fleur, take her and go."

"But, Bill…"

Bill Weasley, Emma thought to herself. The man who saved her life was Bill Weasley?

"Go, Fleur," he said in a controlled voice as he pulled his wand from her robes. "Get her to safety."

"Bill…" For the first time, the woman's voice shook. Emma turned her head to stare at her and saw that the blonde had tears in her eyes. Suddenly she felt her stomach clench painfully. All at once she knew what was at stake here.

"Yes, Fleur," said the high-pitched cackle. "Get the weakling out of here, go, go… let the grown ups play nicely."

Emma swallowed hard as she felt Fleur back away. She began moving her own feet, adding just the slightest amount of pressure to her wounded foot.

Bill turned back one last time, a flicker of a smile spreading across his face. "I love you."

"I love you," Fleur's voice trembled.

And then Bill turned back with his wand out. The last thing Emma saw before they rounded the corner were streaks of light going back and forth and two voices, one male and one female, rising loudly.

"We have to find a way out of here," Fleur said suddenly, stopping at an intersection with the main corridor and allowing Emma to grab onto the wall and catch her breath.

"We could use that," she said, gesturing weakly to a small door in the middle of the wall. "It's a shaft used by the Wizards that control the weather systems." She saw Fleur staring at it for a moment before shaking her head to clear it. "He's going to be all right, Fleur."

The other woman smiled at her sadly. "We should get out of here."

Emma stumbled forward, grabbing onto the other woman for support. Once they reached the door, both women grabbed onto a corner of the door and pulled it open. As they did, they were both hit with a massive wave of heat and the scent of something that made both women immediately ill.

"There's a ladder," Emma said, bracing herself against the doorway and staring upwards.

"There is no light," Fleur replied, glancing at her. "How will we see our way up?"

"Use your wand," Emma said, gritting her teeth as she maneuvered herself in the doorway and took a step down on the ladder. Just moving her leg slightly caused a great wave of dizziness to overcome her. Blinking uneasily, she clung desperately to the ladder, knowing that nothing would stop her from falling except the floor just above the Department of Mysteries. "Come on."

Fleur gracefully leapt inside, using her wand to tap on the strand of lights running all the way up to the Atrium. Soft blue light filled the corridor. "I will climb," she said, turning back and pulling the door shut. "We should brace it."

"So we can't let anyone else get out?" Emma asked fearfully, glancing down and swallowing hard. Why did her fear of heights have to kick in now?

"So nothing evil can get in," Fleur said dramatically, tucking her wand back in her robes as she grasped the rungs and began to climb. Putting every ounce of her energy towards not passing out again, Emma slowly followed her. They only had two levels to go, but it was still a long climb. As they moved, she could hear the sounds of screaming, distant bangs and booms that sounded suspiciously like Inferius burrowing through the floors and then complete and utter silence as they reached the top.

"It's too quiet," Emma said, pausing a bit and glancing down to make sure nothing bad was following them.

"We must keep moving," Fleur said in her heavy accent as she neared the top of the ladder.

"Easy for you to say," Emma mumbled. She was about six steps behind; using her upper body to pull her lower body up considering her injured leg seemed to have given out completely.

When Fleur finally reached the top, she stepped onto the landing. Emma was still five rungs down and was moving slowly towards her. She saw the look on the other woman's face; Emma was in serious pain. "Come, now," she said, bending down to help hoist the younger girl along. "We need to get out of here. We have to find a way to safety."

"You mean you have to get me and my ineptitude out of here," Emma grumbled as she passed the third rung and continued to climb.

Fleur gave her a patient smile before turning around. "I need to look to the Atrium," she said, rising to her feet and pressing lightly against the door. As she peered out, Emma took a breather, pressing her face on the cold metal rung. She was amazed that this passageway wasn't controlled by the Inferius.

"What do you see?" she asked softly.

Fleur pulled back in, looking sickened. "I can't say," she said, swaying slightly with a greenish hue to her face.

"That bad, huh?" Emma asked, passing the top rung and pulling herself up next to the other woman with her aid. Then, as Fleur took her hand, she pushed the door open and both women stepped out.

The Atrium was deadly quiet but was not without grave damage. They kept to the shadows, Fleur pushing the door shut behind them. Every inch of the Atrium floor was gouged out, burnt or else covered in massive piles of bodies. Feeling sick, Emma stepped closer to Fleur who wrapped an arm around her waist. "What now?"

"Bill said that the only way out was through the Muggle phone booth."

It was directly across the Atrium. Emma gazed at it and knew instantly there were great obstacles between them and that entrance. The elevators that lined the opposite wall were all closed. And from what she could see, all fireplaces but one had been destroyed, blown from the wall with the Floo network connections severed.

"Can you run?"

Emma knew in her heart that she couldn't, but fear was her greatest motivator. "I'll try."

"Let's move… NOW!"

As both women burst forward, figures leapt from all directions, aiming curses and shooting at them.

"Fleur!" Emma screamed as they became separated. Unable to run as her leg crumpled beneath her, Emma found herself sliding and slamming into a column, leaving Fleur Delacour standing in the open and exposed to a half-dozen Death Eaters and more than a dozen Inferius.

Fleur pulled out her wand, shouting curses and downing two Death Eaters almost instantly. And then she was hit in the back by a curse. Her face tensed up with pain as she fell forward. Emma found herself screaming an endless scream that lasted, even when Fleur had fallen. Another Death Eater stepped out, cursing her again and again. She watched with tears streaming down stunned cheeks as Fleur's body shuddered under the force of the curses until, at last, the figure stopped.

And then the figure turned towards her. Emma trembled as the wand arm lifted and the figure in the black cloak advanced towards her.

"Oh, my God," she muttered, painfully getting to her knees before she collapsed to the side again. She knew there was no escape except certain death. Her wand that she'd been holding since they'd gotten out of the shaft was lying twenty feet away near a column… near Fleur's body… "Oh, my God…"

x-o-x

"Can I help you, Miss?"

Buffy turned to an older man in tweed who stood behind a counter, cleaning his glasses on the front of his nerdy shirt. "No, thank you," she said, offering a smile as she turned back to the card catalogue.

"At the very least, let me help you in the right direction."

Buffy glanced at the librarian, her eyebrow arching slightly. "Fine, then. Tell me where I can find a meaning for this." Rolling up the sleeve of her blouse, she showed him the skull with the snake coming from its mouth.

"Perhaps you would like to read the section on modern body art and cross-reference it with cultural groups and civilizations."

"That's what I was doing," she said, gesturing to the drawer she was reading through. "It's not like I'm not trying, you know."

The man smiled at her as he replaced the glasses on his nose. "I am smarter than I look, Miss…"

"Miss none of your business," Buffy snapped. "Besides, I think I've found what I was looking for," she continued, plucking a single card from the stack and using her hip to nudge the door closed.

"Very well," the man said simply, frowning as he drummed his fingers on the countertop.

"Then I'll be sure to call on you," she replied, squinting as she attempted to read the man's nametag, "Giles."

After a few minutes, she found what she was looking for. She retreated to the back, selecting a few books before setting in a comfortable armchair. Propping the books on the table next to her, she began going through a book that boasted thousands of tattoos and tribal symbols. She searched for skulls and found only gang symbols. She searched for serpents and found more tribal symbols than anything else. When she did find something referencing a snake coming out of the mouth of a skull, it referenced a group of psychotic magicians known only as Death Eaters. They were apparently a mass murdering group of people who disguised themselves in black robes with tall, pointy hoods and wore skeletal masks. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought them rejects from the 'Masters of the Universe' era. At least, that's what she found as she combed through useless comic books that had been in the reference section as she had looked them up.

With a frustrated sigh, she closed the book and stared hard at her tattoo. Was it just her imagination or was it darker today? Frowning, she poked and prodded at it, her mind going back to something her mother had said to her earlier that morning.

_"Is something wrong, honey? You've barely touched your breakfast."_

_Buffy forced herself to look up at her mother, who sat across the table from her. They were outside at one of the cutest patio tables she had ever seen, and her mother was sitting there graciously, sipping at her tea and reading the morning headlines. After a few moments though, she realized that her daughter was staring at her blueberry scone rather than actually eating it._

_"No, nothing," Buffy said quietly, setting her napkin aside. "I guess I'm just not hungry."_

_"Now I know something's wrong," Lily teased, setting the paper aside. "Elise, you've never been not hungry. Even when you're nauseatingly ill and throwing up, you're always able to choke down a hot meal." Her eyes traveled down to where her daughter was holding her hand over her right arm. "Are you injured?"_

_"Well, not really," she grudgingly admitted, pulling her hand away. "It's just... what is this?" She held out her arm to her mother, who suddenly sighed._

_"Your teenage rebellious streak, dear," she said, taking Buffy's hand and glancing down at the tattoo of the snake protruding from a skull. The mark was very faint, almost invisible as though it rested just beneath the surface of her skin. "You don't remember getting marked?"_

_For a second, the words struck her as ironic. After a moment though, she decided to reply, "No, I don't."_

_"You and that roommate of yours," Lily said, her voice taking on a testy tone. "We warned you that if you ever got a job in the force, they'd probably make you take it off, but try as you might, some marks can never be erased."_

_"Like this one," Buffy grumbled, scrubbing at it with her nails. Lily gently reached across and removed her daughter's hand._

_"If you keep rubbing it, it won't disappear," Lily said in a voice of practiced patience. "In fact, all you will end up doing is irritating your skin."_

_"Thanks for that life lesson, Mom," she said, wrinkling her nose._

_"Anytime, dear," Lily beamed. Standing up, she collected her cup and walked over, placing a kiss on top of her daughter's head. "I've got to get ready for my shift; your father already left for his. Don't expect us home for dinner, we had plans tonight. Dawn's at school working on a play and your brother should be around after his classes get out later. Until then, feel free to wander around town or roam about with those friends of yours. I'm sure they're still in your address book, right? Look them up, give them a call." Glancing down into her daughter's haunting, blank eyes, she added, "Who knows? Maybe one of them can jar that memory."_

Frowning, she stood up and collected her books. So far that memory was staying right where it didn't belong. She knew the answer was there, but she also knew that someone could tell her what the tattoo meant. But she was out of time for today. She knew she needed to get ready for the gala that night. As she checked her watch, she only had a few hours left. And she still had so much to do.

x-o-x

In the real world, Buffy Summers was as still as a corpse. But Giles couldn't worry about it anymore. He had had to get out of the mansion, even if it meant a long walk around the muggy forests of Bulgaria by himself. When Tomas had come forward and offered himself as a chaperone, Giles couldn't find it in his heart to push the young man away. It was clear he was traumatized. His eyes were glazed over and his voice was oddly cold and strained. But even as they walked and as Giles asked the boy questions trying to find out more about his life, the young man didn't talk much. He just kept staring down and marching, his arms swinging stiffly at his sides.

"Are you all right, Tomas?" Giles asked in what he hoped was a friendly voice. He knew that the two vampire hunters were afraid of him, especially after he threatened Irene Ironton. He scoffed under his breath. Irene deserved everything that was coming to her and more for what she did to his Slayer. And though he tried to coax out of Tomas the reason why he became a vampire hunter in the first place, the young man remained sullen and quiet. This didn't really bother Giles who needed the time alone, anyway. He knew time was running out for his Slayer. Whoever had done this to her… they would soon come back to either finish her off or to cart her to wherever they wanted to cart her off to. He needed answers and he needed them quickly.

They began to walk down by the river. Tomas walked slightly behind Giles as the man stopped for a moment, tipping his face to the hazy sky and inhaling deeply. "This is what I love most about Mother Nature," he said warmly, turning with a bright smile to the boy. Tomas didn't even look up. He was still staring down. "She never fails to impress."

The boy looked up then. His eyes had a foggy appearance. Giles frowned; normally talking to him was as easy as sin, but today for some reason the young man didn't feel like opening up. Giles knew it was time to resort to his old Watcher ways. Turning back to nature, he added, "Did you know that in nature you can use anything as a weapon in order to escape your enemy?"

Tomas let out a sound that sounded like a scoff. Giles didn't know what it was. He shot a reproachful look at the young man, but he refused to look back at him. Frowning deeper, Giles turned back to the river. "And did you know that the first Slayers actually used the forest?"

"I did not."

The voice sounded harsh and scratchy. He turned back to Tomas, frowning as the young man stared at him. And then he felt something jump in his stomach. Something isn't right here, he thought to himself. Something's out of place…

"I have respect for the Slayers," Tomas said, turning to stare out over the river. "Even ones that can whittle stakes from trees."

"They all can," Giles said proudly. "Even my Slayer can do that… err…" The more he thought about it, the more he wondered how capable Buffy really was at using nature as a tool. He smiled sadly as he thought about all of the things he wanted to ask her about… and now he may never get that chance.

"I happen to like nature," said the voice. By the sound of his footsteps, he could tell that Tomas was moving behind him. "I think it works as perfect cover to do what needs to be done."

As the words registered in Giles' mind, he twisted around to confront the young man about his metaphorical threat. But before he could, he heard the sound of a shot. There was a sudden tingle in his neck and he found himself staring dreamily at the wood line and at the river as he crumpled to his knees before falling face-first into the ground.

x-o-x

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing as Professor McGonagall stepped inside, the portrait swinging shut behind her. Setting his books and the letter on the table, Harry turned and watched as Professor McGonagall waited for the room to calm down.

"As I'm sure many of you are fearing… there has been an attack on the Ministry of Magic."

Almost immediately, there was uproar. Students leapt to their feet, demanding to know whether or not their loved ones were still alive. Bitterly, Harry recalled that the Ministry of Magic sent his sister to Bulgaria so at least he knew she was safe. Professor McGonagall listened as the students shouted for a moment before raising her hand. Slowly their tempers simmered and many sat down again.

"We do not know the extent of the attack. We do know however that the Ministry itself seemed to be blocked; our people cannot get in and as far as we know, there is no way out. All we can do at this point is wait for the news to come in. Please do not ask if your loved ones, friends and families are all right as we do not yet know. Once we know for certain, we will come to you. Now, as you have all had a free day, I hope you have spent it wisely. We will resume classes in the morning unless something dire comes to pass." She suddenly noticed a letter addressed to Harry Potter from the Ministry of Magic on top of his books and frowned slightly. "I looked to our Head Boy and Head Girl to make sure that students do not panic." She looked pointedly at Harry and Hermione. Both nodded. "Good. Until your lessons tomorrow… have a good day."

Turning around, she motioned for Harry and Hermione to follow her. A moment later, the portrait shut behind them. Glancing at the nosey portrait of the Fat Lady covering the doorway, she gestured Harry and Hermione down the hall. "I would like you two to take regular patrols around the school to make sure students are not moving about."

"Professor, if there has been an attack at the Ministry of Magic, surely whoever initiated that attack will be headed for Hogwarts next?"

"No, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said, shaking her head slightly. "We do not believe that will be the case. However, we must use caution. If the students should panic, we might inspire fear for little reason at all. All we can hope for at this point is that the attack is less instead of more." She offered them both a brave smile. "I will let you two get back to your classmates now. Oh, and Potter?" she asked, turning around even as she walked away. "That letter from the Ministry of Magic… will you read it immediately?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. Professor McGonagall nodded firmly before disappearing around corner.

Even in the darkness, Hermione's hand found Harry's. He felt her trembling next to him. But inside, he was beginning to boil with anger.

The common room was full of chattering students when they came back. Hermione immediately explained to Ron why she and Harry had been pulled outside as he located the letter and opened it. After a moment, he fell weakly to his seat, a small cry coming from his mouth.

Students quieted down and turned to him. Hermione dared a single step forward. "Harry?" she asked. He stared up at her with bewildered eyes as the letter slipped from his fingers and the parchment fell gracefully to the floor. "What is it?"

"It's Buffy," he said in a stunned voice. "She… she…"

"Is she dead, mate?" Ron asked, leaning forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a single figure stand up. It was a younger girl with brown hair and blue eyes. Those blue eyes were directed at Harry and were filled with tears. Even Ginny stopped studying from her scroll and looked round at Harry.

"They… they don't know…" Harry said, his anger immediately melting away at something else… uncertainty. "They… they said she was mortally wounded, but they didn't say if… if…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. How could he say that his only living relative was dead? "I…" he tried again, struggling to get the emotion out. "I…"

x-o-x

Emma could almost see her life flash before her eyes. The Death Eater was only a few feet away from her now. She saw the mouth open and heard the words before the curse was released.

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

Emma gasped and swung her head around as another redheaded somebody launched out of the shadows towards her. The single curse hit the Death Eater so close to killing Emma. The curse he had shouted went awry as his body spun away, hitting the ceiling and sending bits of plaster and metal towards her. She screamed, covering her head with her arms.

"Emma!"

The next thing she knew, she felt hands at her sides pulling her backwards. She kicked out her legs, crying out as her injured leg hit the ground. At once she saw a face she recognized easily. "Percy!" she cried in relief as they continued to move.

"We have to go!"

As they began running, she saw her wand sticking out from under the debris. A large beam fell dozens of feet before landing on top of Fleur. She paused only for a few seconds to retrieve her wand before they went running again. "That phone booth is the only way we're going to get out of here alive," she panted to him as they stumbled across the Atrium. The only thing holding her up was the arm firmly set beneath hers. He wasn't about to let go of her she knew. Hot tears burned in her eyes as she remembered Percy's brother, the one who had saved her life.

"I saw Bill below," she moaned as they stopped at a column to catch their breaths. "He… he saved my life."

Percy's eyes held worry as he glanced at the scene behind him. "We have to break for it. We can't stop until we get there."

"It's so far," Emma whispered. "I… I don't know if I can make it."

"I am not leaving you behind," Percy said, grasping her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "I will not leave you," he said in a voice under quiet control. "I've already seen so many that I…"

Recalling her own horrors at watching Fleur Delacour die, she could only nod, swallowing hard. "I know…" she moaned. "But I'll just slow you down."

"I can't leave you behind," Percy said in a dignified voice. He thought about Buffy who was in Bulgaria, mortally wounded somewhere. He knew in his heart that he couldn't abandon her friends to this massacre. Emma was one of Buffy's dearest friends. He would not let her die no matter what. "On the count of three."

"One," she muttered, bending down as his arm locked itself around her waist.

"Two…" he said quietly, his eyes on their goal: the door at the other end of the large, open area.

"Three!" they both shouted, bursting forward with such speed that Emma felt dizzy.

As they continued to run, more Death Eaters came from nowhere, aiming their curses at the two figures running between them.

"We can't stop!" Percy shouted as they moved, streaks of light fluttering straight past them. "We have to keep moving."

Suddenly a figure stepped right in front of them, a slow evil grin spreading across his face. "No," Emma wept, closing her eyes.

"Stupefy!"

Emma opened her eyes and watched as the Wizard in front of them fell to the side. Leaping over him, Percy dragged her on. Turning their heads, they caught one of the most beautiful sights.

A half dozen Aurors had appeared out of nowhere. Emma found her body coming to a jerky stop as Percy paused, staring at the scene unfolding to their left. Unexpectedly her eyes were drawn to a single figure with curly black hair and a pale yet determined face. "Mum!" Emma cried.

"Get out of here!" another Auror cried, drawing Emmeline's attention to her daughter.

"Emma!"

"Mum!"

As desperate as she was to get to her mother, Percy held her back. A moment later, she knew why. Five Inferi suddenly sprang from the walls, swarming towards the six Aurors. "Mum, look out!" she screamed. She found herself being dragged backwards as Percy started to run again.

In less than a minute two Aurors were dead as the Inferi touched them with their deadly grasp. Emma's screams grew more frantic as the Inferius backed away, leaving the trail clear for ten Death Eaters as they came up against the only Auror left standing.

"Emma, please go."

Just the sound of her mother's desperate voice broke her heart. "Mum, no!"

"Emma, go!"

"No!"

"EMMA!"

"Mum!"

Even as more Aurors suddenly arrived and the battle continued on, two Death Eaters suddenly appeared out of nowhere, knocking her and Percy to the ground. Emma cried out, drawing Emmeline's attention again. She and the Auror standing next to her broke out, running to protect her daughter. As Percy raced for Emma's fallen form, a Death Eater approached. "Avada Ked—"

But before he could finish his curse, Emmeline pummeled into him. As they both tumbled to the ground, Emmeline reached out and took her daughter's hand. "Please, Em… get out of here!" She turned to Percy with distressed eyes. "Get her out of here!"

"Mum, no… I'm not leaving you," Emma moaned, grasping her mother's hand even as Percy tugged at her.

"Honey, go!"

The next thing Emma knew, she was on her feet and tears blinded her vision as her mother turned to valiantly continue the fight. But no sooner had she stood up did a familiar voice cry out, "Avada Kedavra!"

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Percy struggled to hold onto Emma as she sprang forward, watching as the flash of green light hit directly into the center of her mother's chest. Emmeline flew gracefully through the air before landing on a pile of rubble, her dark eyes staring vacantly into nothingness.

"Mum!" Emma sobbed, struggling to go towards her mother. "No, Mum, no!"

Percy managed to maintain his hold, dragging Emma backwards towards the lift so close. He managed to jump over the shattered remains of the stunning set of fireplaces that had lined the walls. Emma, blinded by tears, could only watch as Death Eaters advanced after them.

"They're getting away!"

"No, they're not!"

Again they were forced to dodge curses even as they reached the lift. Percy used his free arm to jerk the gate open before throwing Emma inside. She tumbled to the ground as Percy stepped inside and closed the gate, two shiny green death curses stopping just shy of their heads. Finally, the lift began to rise.

Percy stood, his chest heaving slightly as he saw Emma on the floor next to him. Her face was wet and terrified.

And then their cage came to an abrupt halt. "No," she whispered, petrified. "No, oh no, oh no…"

Percy stepped forward, muttering under his breath as he tapped the controls. After one stressful moment, the phone booth continued to ascend. Moments later, they were greeted by the regular Muggle day. Weak sunlight filled the cabin as, at last, their horrific plight came to an end.

Without warning, a great tremble shook the entire phone booth. "Go," Percy said, hauling her to her feet. "Go, go!"

Before they could get themselves out of the tiny phone booth, the booth shattered, sending them both onto the Muggle street just as a great plume of smoke rose from where the phone booth had once stood.

As Emma blinked, recovering from the jarring motion of landing on the street, she heard voices calling them.

"Percy?" Emma barely moved her neck as she saw a pair of legs moving frantically towards them. "Percy?"

"Dad! Dad!" Percy was calling as Arthur Weasley came reached his son and pulled him into a heartbreaking embrace. Emma felt as though the world dropped from beneath her as she struggled to her knees. "Dad, Bill---"

"I know, my son," Arthur said, tapping Percy's cheeks. "I know." Turning, both men helped Emma Vance to her feet. She lifted grieving eyes to the older Weasley and offered him a look of deep shock before passing out in Percy's arms.

x-o-x

To be continued…

x-o-x

Next Chapter: The Death Eaters strike at the heart of the Watcher's Council; Faith makes her choice; Draco makes his choice; Buffy falls deeper into her coma; a traitor is uncovered in Bulgaria…

**Reviewer Comments**: Another chapter or two and I'll be halfway done with this story! I'm also going to ask for reviews because they might cheer me up and that's what I need... yeah.

Lightdemondarkangel: _The mysterious Death Eater shouldn't be much of a surprise... his identity should be known by the end of this set. Needless to say, things are going to pick up in pace now. Buffy will make it back out, but she has to "want" out first._

Naitch: _Aw, you flatter me so. Seriously... the Death Eater's are up to no good. I've always been fond of blowing things up and this seems like the perfect thing to do. Giles will get the one-up on Irene, but the wand was left for a reason. Buffy does get the life she's always wanted, but beneath the surface, she's going to discover she's much more than a future trophy._

Grace: _Okay, so I didn't give my beta the last chapter. And you know what will happen... until I send you the revised outline anyway. I know you like Sirius and Faith and I know you believe that neither one will make it to the end of the story. And yes, you are right again - much darkness to come, but also some light..._

Amber: _Cedric was chosen for a reason. But you'll see Oliver again, a lot sooner than you think. And yes, they will be reunited in the waking world. Sirius is just lonely is all... he was trapped in that house for the entirety of Harry's fifth year and, once again, is trapped there again. So Faith showing up was a good thing... it's time for the Black siblings to heal._

sparky24: _Dawn's appearance in Buffy's dream does have meaning, true. And if you think that rain on the emotion was bad, just wait a few chapters... but even in darkness, happiness has a way._

Haunted: _Well, thank you. I hope this chapter met your expectations, too!_

smurfinator: _There is one reason I put her with Cedric. And though I haven't yet written that out, I can't wait to. Sirius is only drunk because he's lonely. Both Black siblings have a lot to work through, but they're well on their way._

dominus513:_ I want to do Harry/Faith. Why? There's a reason somewhere in there._

Javian: _Buffy will snap out of it when she's ready to snap out of it. The exterior world and all of its happenings will go on without her. Besides, in her dreams, she will see part of the future._

Lady Smoothie: _Gah... poor Harry. I really want it to be Harry/Hermione, but it seems to be heading more towards Harry/Faith. Of course, that means nothing because I might change my mind again._

Demongirl024: _There is no such thing as magic in Buffy's normal life. Oliver is in Buffy's normal life, but in a completely different role. And besides, this story is more like Buffy/Oliver. Actually, your daydream isn't that far off for what is going to happen. As for me, I'm doing okay. To say my family and friends have had an easy past few months is an understatement._


	11. We All Fall Down, Part II

_**Note: **Once again, thanks to Grace, my beta-reader and my friend. You are loved… never forget that. Oh, and this chapter was removed before but now back.  
_

_**Chapter Summary**: The fates of those inside the Ministry of Magic are uncovered; Faith makes her choice about her involvement in Harry's life; after hearing of his father's role in the massacre at the Ministry of Magic, Draco must make his choice about where he really stands; a traitor is uncovered in Bulgaria; _

_**Warning: **These next few chapters are dark, just to be warned…_

**Chapter 11**

**We All Fall Down**

**Part II**

x-o-o-x

"You can only come to the morning through the shadows." – J.R.R. Tolkien

"You look beautiful."

Buffy turned from where she was looking at herself in the mirror and smiled at her sister standing in the doorway. Dressed in a long, elegant black gown with enough sequins to qualify her own fireworks display, Buffy felt glamorous and certainly desirable.

Dawn stepped inside, a camera in her hand. "Mum and Dad already left, but they wanted some pictures. The motorcade isn't leaving for another few hours yet, so I just thought…" She waved the camera about. "When he gets here, I want pictures of you both." Her smile turned wistful and she shrugged. "After losing so many precious memories, we want you to have tonight."

"I'd like that," Buffy said softly, smoothing the front of her dress.

"You have no choice," Dawn smirked, stepping forward and holding up the camera. "Now, just act naturally… fix your hair or something."

"My hair? What's wrong with my hair?" Buffy murmured in a distressed voice, turning around to face the mirror and reaching up to touch her carefully swept-up 'do. "I don't see anything wrong with my hair."

"That's my sister," Dawn said fondly, snapping two pictures. "I've kind of missed you."

Buffy turned back and felt her face soften. Her sister was the sweetest girl, she thought to herself. She was lucky to have a sister like her. Sweeping over to Dawn, she wrapped her arms around her sister and giggled slightly.

"Love you too," Dawn murmured into her older sister's shoulder. She pulled back when the door rang downstairs. "Guess that's the royal guard coming to bring Cinderella to the ball."

"Better go catch my golden pumpkin then," Buffy winked, giving herself one last look in her mirror and turned back to grab at the small, beaded bag on her bed. She heard Dawn running downstairs, laughing loudly as she banged her way to the door. A moment later, the door opened and she heard two voices talking below.

"Here I come," she whispered, taking her first step out. As she rounded the corner on her descent, she saw a figure standing with his back to her, wearing a tuxedo with tails. He turned around when he heard the sound of footfalls. It was almost worth the whole agonizing experience of her hairdresser to see the look on his face. It was almost worth the horrifying experience of trying on many, many gowns just for this moment to see the gleam in his eyes.

"Wow," he breathed, attempting to talk. When words failed him, he looked aside, cleared his throat and looked back up. "I mean… wow…"

"He thinks you look great," Dawn chimed in, reappearing with two large duffels as large as she was. "I just called my cab so I'll be back on Monday. Wish me luck tomorrow." Stepping forward, she kissed her sister's cheek. "And you… have the time of your life tonight, okay? You've earned this. After everything you've been through, you both earned this." Stepping back, she held up the camera and quickly pushed her sister and her sister's boyfriend together for the pictures she'd threatened earlier.

Buffy watched as her sister dashed away again before turning back to look at Cedric. "Look at you," she said sweetly, walking over to him as he reached for her arm. "My escort looks like a prince tonight."

"Well, if you think this is princely, I give you…" He opened up the door and swept her out. Her eyes widened as she saw a large, old-fashioned black car with a man in a white suit standing with the back door open.

"Wow," she whispered as she took the steps carefully, attempting to sweep the train of her gown behind her. "I think you outdid yourself."

"If you think this is good," he said, grinning down at her. "You haven't seen anything yet."

x-o-x

Tomas stared dutifully at the figure of the fallen Watcher on the ground before glancing at the weapon in his hand. Moving to Rupert's quiet form, he bent down to remove a dart from the back of the man's neck. "So sorry," he muttered, breaking the dart in two and tossing it away.

"What is this? What have you done?"

Tomas felt his brow crease in sudden confusion as he turned around to face his partner. "Kris?"

"You… you shot him?" Kris asked in a trembling voice. "Why would you shoot him?"

"I… I…" Tomas glanced down at the gun in his hands and shrieked, the gun falling from his left hand. "Oh, my… oh, my… oh, dear, dear, dear… what have I done?" He stared at the blood on his hands, splattered from when he'd tugged out the dart from the man's neck. "Oh, my God…"

"It's about time, too," Kris said, his voice hiding his contempt as his foot nudged the fallen watcher. "He was a bit annoying."

"I… shot him."

"Yes, you did."

"Why did I shoot him?" Tomas whispered, mortified as he bent down to rouse the man awake. "Is he dead?"

Kris bent down and took the man's wrist, feeling the pulse. His eyes narrowed when he felt a slow but steady throb. "He's not."

"He's not?" The relief was evident in Tomas's voice as he looked over and felt the same vein Kristofer had felt. He sighed with relief as he stood, his eyes misting at the thought his second mistake hadn't murdered someone.

"No," Kris said in a hard voice, rising up and pulling out his wand. "He's not."

"Can we wake him up?"

Kris glanced at the other man before shaking his head calmly. "I'm sorry, but no."

"We cannot wake him up?" Tomas asked in his heavy accent.

"No, we cannot," Kris said, smirking slightly as he turned to face the other man. "He was supposed to die."

A look of realization suddenly crossed Tomas's dark eyes. "What is this?"

"Exactly what it is meant to be," Kris said, lifting up his wand. "And now you will do exactly as I say."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I will kill you if you do not," Kris said in a chiding tone. The light, teasing look in his eyes was gone now, replaced by a hard, cold look that scared Tomas. "You see, when I put you under the Imperious Curse, you were not supposed to come out of it so easily."

"That was you?" Tomas gasped, horrified. "I thought it…" He glanced at Giles lying next to him.

"No, no," Kristofer said calmly, stepping around the fallen Watcher and advancing on his partner. "It was me all along. I switched the darts with poison as I was ordered to do." There was a manic gleam in his eyes now.

"You… you tried to kill Buffy?"

"I never meant to kill her," Kris said calmly, a smile on his lips now as he glanced at the quiet, eerie county around them. "She will be taken as promised—"

Tomas felt something catch in his throat and fought the urge not to throw up. He suddenly felt trapped. Very trapped. "Are you going to kill all of us?"

"If I must," Kris shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at Giles' body lying on the ground behind him. Almost instinctively, he pushed his foot into the man's hip and flipped him over onto his back. His glasses were broken and crooked on his nose. Small trails of blood from the wound in his neck ran across his face and down the front of his stark-white top. "You were to kill him. And then I would kill you."

Tomas felt near panic now. "I…"

"Put him in the river," Kris said coldly, switching his gaze back onto Tomas. "Drag his body down to the river and put him in it."

Tomas felt his hands shake as he stared at the rapid current of the river and then back at Kris. "How do I know you will not do me in?"

"You do not," Kris said in a mocking voice. "I owe you nothing."

"And what about Buffy?" Tomas asked. "Do you realize how important she is for us?"

An odd shiver passed Kristofer's face. "I do know what she means for you," he said coldly, advancing quickly on the man who backed uneasily away from him. "You, on the other hand, have no clue what she means to _us_."

"I will not involve myself with this," Tomas said, his eyes drawn to the wand in the other man's hand. "I will not kill for you."

"You almost killed Rupert Giles, did you not?" Kris sounded amused now.

"You cursed me," Tomas snapped, reaching behind him and feeling in the back band of his pants for his wand. "You deceived me. You lied to all of us! How could you do this to us?"

"The question, dear friend, is whether or not this had been planned from the beginning." At seeing the blank look on his partner's face, he lifted up his wand, gesturing back. "One last chance… no?" He asked, his eyes twinkling at the utter horror on the young man's face. "You leave me with little choice."

"I die of my own free will," Tomas stuttered.

"So brave and yet so foolish," Kris admonished him as he lifted his wand. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

The blast of green light shot out from his wand and hit the other man square in the chest. The impact flung him back several feet and he fell, rolling over and over until he rested near the body of the Watcher.

Slowly, he started laughing as he pulled his wand arm down. "Two down," he said silkily, flicking his eyes towards the mansion looming only a hundred yards behind them. "One to go."

x-o-x

Staring hard at her feet, Emma Vance felt the cold of the late afternoon as she shivered underneath a blanket. She was sitting on a tailgate of some Muggle vehicle. People came and people went, but she didn't pay them any heed. She just sat on a cold metal chair wrapped in a blanket and staring at her feet.

"How are you holding up?"

Emma forced herself to look up at Arthur Weasley. Wrapped in his normally worn Wizarding robes, he looked out of place on the busy Muggle street. She blinked up at him before her gaze dropped back down to the ground. "I'm okay."

She felt his comforting hand on her shoulder as she fought back tears. Hours had passed since their escape from the hell beneath which had once stood as the proud Ministry of Magic. She pressed her cold hand to her numb face and took a deep, shuddering breath. She heard Arthur moving away and talking to someone. Glancing up, she saw a group of people who could only come from Hogwarts. Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall were amongst a group standing with other Wizards Emma recognized as working in the Ministry. She felt something like a laugh bubble up from her chest as she turned away, resting her head against the cold metal frame.

Across the lot, Percy Weasley stood with a group of Ministry employees. His eyes were on the gaping hole in the ground with thick white smoke billowing out. Closing his eyes, he heard the screams of fellow employees still echoing in his ears…

He had managed to find his way out of the Minister's office. Once out, he saw the crowd swelling around the one lift off of the hallway. Turning on his heel, he found the main corridor and found that the elevator was crammed full. He spun around only to find a half-dozen Ministry employees running terrified with a half-crazed look in their eyes. He knew that unless he found another way off of this level, he would be trapped. As he turned to walk away, he heard the elevator bell ring and the doors pulled open. He heard voices inquiring about who was actually inside the elevator cage. And then he heard the screams.

Against his better judgment, he turned around, staring behind him. The sprinkles over their heads suddenly activated, spraying all in the corridor with an icy blast of water. Spluttering and wiping his glasses uselessly, Percy managed to find a doorway. He had somehow managed to clear away from the crowds. He still heard the screams…

He couldn't leave them all behind. Who was he to run away like a coward? He was the Minister's Junior Assistant, for crying out loud. He had a responsibility to the people whose office they had voted for he worked and dedicated his life to and nearly destroyed his family over.

"Percy?"

He whirled around and glanced behind him. "What is it?" he said, glancing at the younger man who was pale and gazing at him, horrified. It was then that Percy noticed the bright red stain on his chest. The man groaned as he fell face-first onto the tiled floor. Lifting his eyes from the body, he stared at the figure behind him. Or rather, the creepy semi-transparent ghoul that gazed at him with socket-less eyes and a rather eerie smile on its face.

Instantly, his mind went back to a lesson taught by Professor Quirrell in his fifth year. _The only way to defer the Inferi is with fire. Mainly, their essence is of cold which means that heat and fire will successfully fend them off. Though the Inferi may not be destroyed, it can be stopped or slowed down. _Pulling out his wand, he muttered the spell for fire and watching as the blast came from his wand. The Inferius shrieked as it stepped back before smashing through a wall.

Percy dropped his wand arm, his breath hard and his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He knew that he had come close to dying at that moment. It was his clearheaded thinking and his ability to solve problems instantly that came into play with his survival.

But then… when that thing had smashed through the walls it had revealed an opening. He stepped inside and glanced down towards the Atrium. Aside from residual dust settling from the crumbled walls and the large, gaping hole on the other side, he realized he had just found the one way off this level without dying.

The only problem rested in how to get down. He got down and slid through the narrow gap and glanced down below. There was a small cable of some sort that would have to do. He reached out and grasped it, testing his weight before he attempted sliding down. It was rough and coarse on his hands. He felt the metal as it bet into his hands and as it tore his cloak. But he was desperate. He could hear them screaming again. It forced him into action. He needed to move. He needed to get out of here. He knew that much.

At last he reached the next level. Stepping on what little floor there was, he kicked at the wall until it crumbled away. Moving his bleeding hands to push the bits of wall and concrete away, he tumbled out of the hole to find himself facing six armed Witches and Wizards standing with a barricade and their wands drawn out.

"Don't shoot!" Percy shouted, putting his hands up and holding them protectively over his face. "Don't shoot! It's me, Percy Weasley."

"Percy?" a quiet voice asked. Percy nearly laughed at the thought that he had found his brother. Bill was standing there next to his stunning fiancé. He could have cried with relief.

"Bill," Percy said, moving behind the barricade. "What's this?"

"From what we've been able to gather, everyone who was in or near the Atrium is dead."

"And… Dad?" Percy asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"We don't know," Fleur said in her thick accent as she joined Bill's side. "We have not heard of him."

Percy felt his hand moving to his face until he realized there were tiny trickles of blood running down his wrists. "Are you all right?" he asked his brother, his future sister-in-law and the others.

"We're fine for the moment," Bill said in his serious voice, glancing at Fleur. "I don't think this level has been hit yet. But, were you—?"

"Oh, yes," Percy said sarcastically. "We were hit. There's Inferius."

Bill's eyes widened. "That's not good."

"You're telling me," Percy said, trying to shield his eyes from his brother. Yet Bill seemed to pick up on it.

"What is it, Percy? What's got your knickers all twisted?"

"You have time to joke like this?" Percy asked in disbelief, staring hard at his brother who shrugged.

"I'm just trying to lighten your mood, little brother. I know I'm not doing a very good job of it, but we need you here." His voice dropped dramatically as he dragged his brother by the elbow over to the corner of the corridor. "We have not had sight or word from any of the other government figures. We have to assume the worst."

"But I'm still here," Percy argued.

"Yes, you're here. You alone are standing here bleeding and terrified and we still have levels to go," Bill retorted. "Listen… there's a few of us who are guarding this level. Every time we're attacked, we fall back to the next level. The gate and lifts are out. We can't Apparate or Floo out."

"They've got us trapped," Percy said quietly. "We're cut off from the outside world."

Bill shook his head and whistled under his breath. "We need to find the others."

"The others?"

"Other people who have survived this monstrosity," Bill clarified, glancing around. "But it is your call."

"How is this my call?"

"You know this lovely building we're currently trapped in? You were willing to cut off your family for this office. You are Minister Fudge's Junior Assistant… it's time to act like one. What do you want us to do?"

Percy felt as though something was stuck in his throat. Finally, he glanced at his brother. Bill was far braver than he could ever hope to be. "What would you do?" he asked cautiously.

"I would tell me to go down and find survivors. If we get enough, maybe we can fight back."

"You want us to fight back against the Inferi?" Percy asked scornfully.

"This isn't my call, Perce," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "This is yours. That's what I would do. Maybe we can't fight the Inferi, but if there are others…"

"Like Death Eaters," Percy muttered under his breath.

"Yes, Death Eaters… those we can fight… to the death if we must."

"All right," Percy said after thinking for a moment. "But I…" How could he ask his brother to risk his life at a time like this? Both he and Fleur were together and they were safe. He knew Bill too well to assume he'd take the upper levels. "Would you…"

"We'll go down," Fleur said, stepping forward suddenly and taking Bill's arm. "The both of us will go down. We'll find as many as we can and we will find a way to get them back up to the Atrium."

Percy sighed in resignation and held out his arm as Bill and Fleur crawled through the tiny hole he had just come through. Before Bill disappeared entirely though, he felt he needed to say his piece. "Bill?"

He watched as his brother's pony-tailed head turned around and he found himself staring into his cool eyes. "Yes?"

"Be careful, okay? I've lost my best friend… I can't lose my brother, too."

Bill's eyes flickered with confusion but a moment later he disappeared inside the crawl space. Percy could hear them using the cable to slide downwards. He felt something painful clench his chest. Yes, he had to find his father. Nothing mattered more to him. He had burnt enough bridges with his family. Here was his one chance to actually do the right thing, even if it meant risking his own life.

Standing in the daylight, Percy squinted at the hole and turned towards his father who made his way to him. "Percy… I know you're not really here right now, but we need you to ask you to do something."

"I'll do it," Percy said simply, glancing up at his father and at the circle of others gathering around them.

Arthur hesitated for a moment before continuing. "You… you may be the last survivor of Minister Fudge's office staff. You are quite possibly the only living witness." He winced as he saw the dark, haunted look in Percy's eyes. "Could you make a statement to the rest of the Wizarding world? We need… we need to tell them what happened here."

Percy's mind chose at that moment to fade out as he remembered something that had happened. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and he shivered. He longed to remember something else. Anything else. He would rather have his joints broken and bent than reminisce about the terrors he had seen. But his father was right: the world deserved the right to know what happened.

And then he saw Emma Vance and he felt his words clog in his throat. He longed to hold her, to do anything to get that deadened look from her face. He knew in his heart that he wore the same devastated look on his face. He also knew that something of it had come from seeing his ex, Penelope Clearwater, taking on two Death Eaters on the level top the Atrium at once.

He remembered feeling so helpless in that very instant because he knew that Penelope was clearly the better at hexing and jinxing in their pairing. He also remembered feeling stupid for crying out her name.

"Percy!" Penelope cried, backing over the bodies of their fallen coworkers as she stood next to him, panting and huffing at the same time. As the two Death Eaters began to hex others in their immediate area, Percy turned to her. He had never seen her look so beautiful, so alive… maybe instead of working for the historical society as she had so wonderfully chosen, she could have made one hell of an Auror, or someone to apprehend people from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…

"All right?" he asked her breathlessly as she glanced away.

"They…" she swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. "They… they killed…"

"I know," Percy said in a low voice, desperately trying to keep the emotion out. "I know, Penny. They've killed a lot of people."

"But… but _her_?" she asked, pointing a shaky finger at a figure lying in the gap between the two parties. "They shot her from behind… those bastards. They can't even fight fair… this isn't war, this is a massacre!"

"Welcome to the real world," Percy said darkly, pulling out his wand and preparing to go forward to help. But Penelope placed her small hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"No, Percy, no… this isn't your fight. For all we know, you're the last person left of the governmental body. You have to get out of here alive."

"I'm not leaving you here to die!"

Even the Death Eaters stopped shouting curses as they turned to look at him before lifting their wands, this time aiming in their direction.

"Percy, please." She was crying now. Tears slipped from her eyes as she stared up at him. "Please go. Please…"

"No." He was struggling to hold it together now. He knew what was at stake. He knew that people were dying and his superiors were likely either dead or being tortured at this very moment. "No, Penelope, please listen to me. I just watched my brother disappear. Buffy, she…" He couldn't get it out. Try as he might, he couldn't spit it out. "I need to be here," he appended, shaking his head at the concerned look on her face. "I can't bow out now."

"How touching," an icy voice said as a third Death Eater joined them. Percy turned and his eyes widened as he glanced at the man. A small army of Inferi blasted through the walls behind him. "Lovers quarreling at the time of their doom. It would make a touching film if either of you were to live to tell the tale."

Before he could stop her, Penelope charged forward just as the Death Eater took out one of the last standing people between her and the male.

"No, no, no," Percy murmured, horrified. And yet he watched as she charged in with all the grace of a Slayer. Her hexes were fast and furious but he knew deep down that she was doomed. Instead, he focused on the figure standing there with the other two Death Eaters sweeping in to defend him. "Penelope, no!"

It was like watching the scene unfold in slow motion. He ran forward just as one of the curses hit the center of her forehead. Her screams would forever reverberate in her ears. He caught her before she fell. Even as he held her dying body in his arms, even as he struggled to find the words to say, he couldn't speak. Nothing seemed appropriate. Should he apologize for something he should have done? Should he have come forward and fought to the death by her side? They had once been equals until they had graduated. Why didn't he ever tell her that he'd loved her?

"Get out of here," Penelope whispered, the light dying from her eyes. "You have to go… now. Please… don't die here now because of me."

Percy glanced up and saw an Inferius bearing down on him. Gritting his teeth, he gentle set Penelope's body aside before getting to his feet. Using his brain, he did the one logical thing he knew how to do – he set fire to the debris before him. With a wall of flame protecting him from his attackers, he was forced to leave Penelope's remains to those he knew would show her no mercy.

As he ran for his life, Percy berated himself for leaving her behind. She was still breathing when he left her. Should he go back? Did he want to go back?

Yes. But he couldn't now. Everywhere he looked people were dying. They were blasted off their feet. They were fatally touched by Inferi. They were dropped hundreds of feet to their fiery deaths.

"Percy? Son? Are you still with us?"

"Dad," Percy said, shaking the horrible memory from his head. "I'm…" He couldn't quite say what he was. He wasn't with them. He couldn't stop the nightmarish thoughts from spilling into his brain. He remembered seeing his brother's body one level above the Atrium. He had apparently fought his way there before being ripped apart by Inferi. As he ran into the Atrium, he stood there. And then Emma had come out of nowhere, stumbling and falling. Being that she was his friend, he wasn't going to watch another friend die. He had seen Fleur Delacour fight brilliantly to her last. He had grabbed Emma and had dragged her clear out of harm's way. His only regret was that Emma had watched her mother die.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. He felt his father's hand on his back, reassuring him that he was not alone in this. But now he felt alone… truly alone. Everything he had worked so hard to protect was gone. Things were falling apart. And he couldn't pull himself back together, not with these thoughts racing through his head…

He moved from his father, from that entire group. They didn't understand. Perhaps his father did, but he had managed to get himself out alive without seeing anything too drastic, right? He could hear Penelope's voice in his head telling him that he needed to go on because he was alone. Just like the Slayer. Just like her destiny… alone. He heard Bill telling him that he needed to get his head together and tell them what they needed to do because he was in charge. He heard Emma sobbing her heart out to him just moments after she woke up from passing out, telling him that every time she closed her eyes, she saw the deadened, terrified look on her mother's face as she died.

There was so much death… so much darkness… it was hard to imagine anything better. He glanced around bitterly as he saw others gathered at the gaping hole, trying to figure out a way inside. Apparently it was still closed off to anyone not wearing the Dark Mark.

"It's useless to try," Minerva McGonagall was saying as she glanced at her compatriots around her. "If we were to use magic to get inside, they could have thousands of Inferi just waiting to ambush us."

"Yes," Sirius Black said, grimacing at the thought of walking in like that. "But what choice do we have?"

"We could ask Snape," Remus Lupin replied, his face clearing wearing the expression that he thought this was the worst idea ever.

However, this got Sirius thinking. "Maybe we don't have to use Snape."

"What do you mean?"

"We just need someone with the Dark Mark, right? They don't have to be evil?"

"I'm not sure," Remus said cautiously, staring at the white smoke still pouring from the ground. "I have no idea what sort of barrier there is to get inside."

"Snape is the only one in this country with that sort of status," Minerva reminded Sirius gently.

"No, he's not," Sirius said, smiling suddenly despite the dismal situation. "There is another…"

x-o-x

Loud jazz music spilled out of speakers perched on top of Grecian columns. Flash bulbs popped as celebrities strolled a bright red carpet, lining as far as the eye could see. Buffy stood at the front of the car as Cedric swept around the back and took her arm, pulling her forward towards the red carpet. "Hey," he said, tugging on her arm to stop. "Shine for a moment."

Buffy turned, blinking as a dozen flash bulbs popped. She couldn't stop beaming even as Cedric pulled her into him, his hand on her back. Moments later, they turned to run up the short flight of stairs and into paradise.

"This is awesome," she whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Did we always get to go to functions like this?"

"Well, no," Cedric sighed. "Believe it or not, this is the second one I've ever been to."

"Just like a daddy's boy?" she teased, reaching up to tweak his nose.

"Speaking of parents," he breathed, leaning away from her and extending his free arm out. "Mother, father…"

"Ah, Cedric!" an older man said, stepping away from a group of people clustered in a small group talking over the soft jazz swelling inside. "And Elise? My, my… you look quite the dish."

"Hello, there," Buffy said, smiling as she shook his hand. To her surprise, he held onto her hand for an extra moment before releasing it.

"Denise, love… our son is here," the man said, nudging a woman who was still standing with the group. She immediately turned, her perfectly made-up eyes widening as she came forward.

"Oh, Amos, dear," she giggled, setting aside a champagne flute. "Hi, Ced… you look swell tonight."

"My mother, the drinking comedienne," Cedric whispered into Buffy's ear, rolling his eyes. Buffy barely held back a giggle as she reached forward to shake Denise's hand. "And our seats?"

"You're with us," Amos Diggory said, gesturing to a circular table somewhere to the left of Cedric. "I hope you don't mind. After all, tonight is an important night. Now, now… we must go and make our rounds. Why don't you two sit and order some drinks? You can make the rounds later."

"Smashing idea, Amos," Denise said, wiggling her arm through her husband's and taking her drink up again. "See you in a bit, dears."

As soon as Amos and Denise slipped away, Buffy turned to Cedric as he led her to their table. "Your mother is drunk."

"She's enjoying life," Cedric said, grinning down at her.

"With champagne?" she teased, moving to pull out her chair to sit down. To her surprise, Cedric blocked her with his arm before pulling out her chair for her. "Hmm… I didn't know they existed anymore."

"Such the perfect gentleman," an older woman across the table sighed, waving cheerfully at them. "Hello, Cedric… Miss Potter…"

"Hi, Helen," Cedric said, adding his charming smile as the older woman smirked, her tiny eyes disappearing into plump cheeks. "You enjoying yourself?"

"Ooh, very much, very much, Cedric. Your parents have outdone themselves again."

"Yes, they have," he said, clearing his throat as he glanced back down at Buffy. "What can I get you?"

"Something sweet," she said, leaning her chin on her fist and gazing up at him.

"I think I'll save that for later," he said, lifting his eyebrows mysteriously. At her sudden surprised look, he bent down, kissed the tip of her nose and disappeared to the bar set up next to the stage where a jazz quintet was playing. As he swept off, she let her gaze wander. She found herself staring at the mutinous faces of a dozen young women glaring daggers at her. She couldn't help but smirk as two bent their heads together and whispered furiously.

A sudden movement caught her eye and she saw a figure moving in the background. She felt a sudden chill race up her spine and turned away, folding her arms against her chest. She felt something on her arm prick and she knew it was the stupid tattoo. Though she'd actually managed to make it disappear under goop of concealer, it still burned. She held her position even as the table filled up around her. Every greeting was answered with a small smile. It wasn't until Cedric got back with two glasses did she actually breathe out a sigh and smile up at him.

"Your wine, dearest," he said, handing her a tall glass and taking the seat next to her. A moment later his parents came laughing to the table. The rest of the tables were filling quickly now and men in red uniforms were circling around the tables with trays of incredible smelling food. "Are you being nice?"

"Except to those girls who are just waiting to stab me in the back and take my place," Buffy said sweetly as he wrapped an arm around her.

"Just let them have their bitter envy… it's not as though they have any other things in their life other than spite," Cedric mumbled under his breath.

"But you love me, right?" Buffy asked him lightly.

"I don't think you have much of a choice there," he teased, squeezing her once before turning to the woman sitting on Buffy's opposite side. "Mrs. Carding, how have you been? How're the kids?"

Buffy sat in her chair, watching the light banter around the table, feeling content. She sipped at her wine and enjoyed her moment. She knew she could get used to this.

She was shaken from her stupor by a deep booming voice. She turned in her chair and saw Amos Diggory taking a microphone from a red-faced young man with a bottle in his hand.

"Thank you much for _that _retelling of our infamous credo," Amos said dryly, watching as the young man stumbled away. "Let us hear it from the court jester!" Scattered applause broke out along with gentle laughter. "Now, before we are served this magnificent feast that you all paid a load of gold for, I have something to say. For this, I wish to invite my son and only child Cedric up here to join me."

Buffy glanced at Cedric as he slowly got to his feet, shrugging at her. She watched in confusion as he walked over to the bandstand where his father was standing waiting for him. "Someday, you good folks will be seeing my heir up here making the small talk and welcoming you all to a night of fraternization and friendship and French chardonnay. Before we eat, I would like to make an announcement. Or, rather, my son has an announcement to make and tonight seems as good a night as any. We would like to announce the engagement of our son, Cedric to a rather extraordinary young woman, Elise Potter."

Buffy felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She felt her jaw drop and struggled to breathe as cheers rose out around her. Following them were strong boos, particularly from the bitter and spiteful club in the back. A single figure slipped from the throng of people lined near the back and held her champagne flute, glancing in disbelief around at the jeerers.

"Go up there, sweetheart," Denise said, leaning over and tapping on Buffy's knee. Standing up on watery legs Buffy walked forward as though in a daze. Cedric met her halfway, taking her trembling hands into his. Before she could do or say anything, he reached into his pocket and removed something and handed it over to her.

"Please tell me this isn't happening in front of hundreds of your parents' friends?" she begged him softly.

"This is exactly where it needs to happen," he said, opening a small box and turning it for her. "You probably don't remember but we… we talked about this. And the time is right. I love you…" He reached out to touch her face and tipped her chin up towards him. "And I kind of adore you. You mean so much to me. Now I get the chance to spend the rest of my life with you… how could I not want that?"

"Oh," Buffy whispered, glancing down at the ring as she reached for it, lifting it from the tiny box. She was aware that there were hundreds of eyes on her, some of them vengeful. "This is probably the sappiest moment of my life. It will be mocked for all eternity in made-for-television movies staring people who don't even look like us… but in the end, it comes down to doing what is right. And this is right. So… yes." She lifted her gaze and met his squarely. "Let's do this together." He suddenly grinned as she handed him the ring. "And, of course, since I'm the girl, I don't put this on myself."

"No… I got this part down," he added with a wink. After he slid the ring onto her finger she leapt into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her as Amos came forward, clapping them both on the back.

"Welcome to the family, Elise. I only wish those good, hard-working folks of yours were here to see it."

"Somehow I think they already knew," Buffy said, giving Cedric a long look. After a moment he smiled helplessly at her, took her by the hand and led her back to their table.

x-o-x

"When I volunteered to help out, I never thought you meant to use my darkest powers."

"Well, yes, if you want to mock this rather dire situation." Sirius suddenly paused, taking his sister by the arms. "Faith, can you listen to me for just one moment? All of these people," he gestured around the street to where people were standing, their expressions crossed between distraught and numb, "have seen death today. Yes, I know that that Mark has caused you a lot of grief but right now, we need that power more than anything. We need to break down the barrier between this world and that…" His voice caught in his throat.

"What do you want me to do?" Faith asked quietly.

"We need you to get through the barriers between the street and the entrance into the Ministry of Magic. Once you break down that barrier, we should be able to get help in."

"Okay… just show me where to go."

"Are you sure you're all right with this?" Sirius asked, leaning closer to her.

"Of course I'm not," Faith retorted, taking a step away from him. "How would you feel if you were the last hope for potential survivors stuck in hell? But it's a job and I do my job."

"Faith…"

"I'm okay, Sirius," she said, giving him a dark look. "So," she said, raising her voice as she walked towards the group clustered by the hole. "How can I help?"

x-o-x

_Crash._

An entire stack of rubble came crashing down, landing this way and that around the cramped corridor. Coughing as she swept the dust from in front of her face, Nymphadora Tonks stumbled away, grasping at the wall as she fell to her knees, struggling to breathe. A moment later, she shook her head to clear it and pushed herself to her feet. Cradling her injured arm to her side, she continued along the narrow hallway, straining to hear the sounds of approaching Inferi or the callous voices of the Death Eaters. She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious but it had been for an actual length of time. Everything seemed so still, so quiet now. She had half-expected to hear the sounds of people screaming or crying or something… but all she heard was silence.

She felt along the floor with her uninjured arm for her wand, knowing she'd need it to defend herself. As she bent over, she became lightheaded and fell onto the debris. Feeling as though she were dangerously close to blacking out, she forced herself to sit up and fell back against the wall.

Reaching up, she felt her head and her face, wincing as she hit a cut above her eye that obviously hadn't stopped bleeding yet. She knew she was defenseless except for the ability to morph herself in order to get out of this place alive. But she was an Auror and her job was to defend this institution. With her blurred gaze, she found herself believing that this institution needed all the defense it could get. Everyone who had likely lifted a wand to defend this Ministry was likely dead. She wondered about the fate of the others, including Arthur and Emmeline.

"How in the hell am I supposed to get out of here?" Tonks whispered to herself. She couldn't see straight. She knew she was injured. She wasn't quite sure where she was. The last thing she remembered was hanging by the ankle and then she saw the floor speeding close to her face. She may have screamed. Her throat was sore as though she had been screaming.

She longed to close her eyes again…

A sudden thump shook her from her drowsiness. Squinting in the bright corridor lights, she moved to her knees, reaching for a board on the floor in case she needed to defend herself. Though she was no Slayer, she knew she had to defend herself. What she wasn't expecting was a figure bursting through the door and collapsing on the ground. A cloud of dust rose into the air and, coughing, Tonks crawled over to the figure. The figure was decidedly male and when she turned him over she felt her breath catch. She pressed her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse and smiled in relief when she found one. Now all she had to do was wake him up.

Slapping his face, all it did was loll around. She poked various parts of his body. It was only when she started tickling his sides did a hand reach out and grasp hers. She gasped and turned to see a pair of cold eyes staring at her.

For a moment, time stood still.

"I'm so sorry," Tonks whispered, twisting her arm from his grasp and turning her gaze away.

"Who are you?" The voice was hoarse and raspy.

"I'm Ton—err, Nymphadora Tonks. I… I work here." Her eyes narrowed at the suspicious look on his face. She didn't recognize him and he wasn't wearing Wizards robes. He was wearing plain, ordinary Muggle clothing. "Who are you?"

"You don't know me?"

"Should I?" she asked, bending her face closer to his to hear him. Her hand reached up to touch the scratches that marred his face.

"Not unless you're a prisoner."

Tonks' hand froze and she moved away, settling back on her heels. "I wasn't aware we had any prisoners here."

"Only ones they apparently drag across the world," the man said, gritting his teeth as he struggled to get up on his elbows.

"No, don't," Tonks said, grasping him by his shoulders. "Please… you'll only injure yourself further."

It was then he noticed her hair. "Your hair is purple. Did you know your hair is purple?"

"Yeah, I like it best that way," she said, grinning at him despite their rather desperate situation. "You're hurt." She paused as she helped him lean against the wall. "You're from… where, exactly?"

"California," he said, swaying as his head smashed into the wall. He winced as debris from the broken open ceiling fell onto them, littering her brilliant purple hair with white strips.

"Oh," she said softly, though her curiosity was getting the best of her. "Well… how did—?"

"I'm a Watcher."

Tonks blinked and shook her head. "Why would they have taken you here?"

"For my protection, apparently," the man moaned. "I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Nympha—"

"If you want to keep that head of yours, you will call me Tonks," she growled as she settled onto the floor next to him, letting her head fall back into the wall. "This is unbelievable. First they ship one Slayer off to California. The next one they ship off to Bulgaria. They drag one of the last two Watchers to Bulgaria and here you are."

"You seem to know a lot about the Slayers," Wesley said, squinting at her.

"Yeah," Tonks said, spying her wand lying underneath some broken tiles from the ceiling. "I do know them… both of them, actually. Faith and Buffy. Well, I knew Buffy first but Faith, well… if she's really Sirius's sister as she claims to be, she's my cousin." Leaving him for a moment, she retrieved her wand before returning to her spot.

"So…" he said quietly, turning to look at her, "what now?"

x-o-x

Rupert Giles groaned as his hand moved towards his face. He felt something sticky on his cheek and winced as he sat up. The pain in his head seemed to double and fell back against the ground. For some odd reason, it felt soggy. He heard the crackle of thunder in the distance. He felt the prickle at the back of his neck and reached back, feeling more dried blood. He slowly drew to his knees as he tried to remember the last thing he knew happened. He remembered staring at the river and then hearing a crack. Judging from the hole in the back of his neck and the broken dart lying by his side, he knew he had been shot.

The air was thick with the smell of rain. He had to get up. He had to get out. He had to get to Buffy.

As he stood up, he nearly tripped over something on the ground. It took him a moment to realize it was the same vampire hunter who shot him.

Something wasn't right, he thought as he glanced up and turned back towards the house. Something wasn't right…

x-o-x

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"I'm five by five," Faith said, squinting at the late afternoon light surrounding the figure of Professor McGonagall. Grasping the cable that would take her slowly into the crevice, she adjusted the belt on her hips and gave the thumbs up sign to the others. "Wish me luck?"

It took a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the barrier. It was on top of part of the wall that had been blasted inwards. She felt the black magic energy the moment she slipped the belt off her hips and moved down the unstable wall and nearly fell into the barrier. She immediately felt the prickle on her arm from the Mark and pushed the thought out of her mind. Breaking this barrier didn't make her a Death Eater. It made her something else because she was trying to get the people still alive and trapped in this hellhole out.

She pushed her hand into the barrier. As her fingers moved through, she felt as though her arm was on fire. The Mark had turned black and yet she struggled to push on. Finally the barrier blinked out and she stumbled down the rabbit hole into something out of a natural disaster movie. She blinked as she walked inside, glancing this way and that. The entire opening entrance had been blown out. Remnants of fireplaces and elevators were ripped and lay gouged into the floors and up into the ceiling tile. A few steps further revealed the Atrium in its horrifying glory. Everything seemed so out of place. Everything seemed so…

One step further and she heard herself gasp. Bodies… there were bodies everywhere. Something began to burn in her stomach and boil upwards. She swallowed hard as she forced herself to continue moving. The Slayer part of her kept warning her that she was still in danger here. She couldn't fight a Death Eater or some weird semi-transparent zombie thing with her Slayer skills; she needed a wand and she had no skills with one.

The mortifying emotion was quickly replaced with anger when she saw many bodies on their stomachs, their backs burnt from the residue of hexes or bloodied gashes from the touches of Inferi. She felt the Dark Mark prickle as she passed another field. It was something a little more important than the entrance and she pushed her way through it. The Dark Mark burned black on her arm as it, too, winked out, leaving her standing alone in the middle of a barren death trap.

Cold fingers fumbled for the police radio she'd attached to her hip. Mustering the only voice she could, she uttered, "I'm in. Coast is clear… come on down." She couldn't keep the darkness from her tone and blinked away tears as she pulled the radio away. She thought she heard someone respond, but the radio had already clattered to the debris-strewn floor.

Some of these were bodies she recognized. One woman had a bruised forehead and her body was cold and stiff as Faith checked for a pulse. Emmeline something-or-other… why did she have to be so bad with names?

After what seemed like an eternity, other people started crawling down the elevator shaft and joined her in the Atrium. She stood there, covered in dust and blood, staring at nothing in particular and struggling to hold it all together. When she felt Sirius touch her arm, she glanced up and felt her self-control wane as tears trickled from the corner of her eyes. "They didn't stand a chance," she whispered. "They were shot in the back."

"We never said the Death Eaters fight fair," Lupin said as he joined the pair. "We're going to try and restore one of the fireplaces. Faith, if we could use your help."

Before she left, Sirius grasped her arm. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Please don't ask me that," she said in a trembling voice. In the background, she heard Lupin shouting for someone to contact St. Mungo's and let them know they needed a large room to serve as a morgue so bodies could be identified and families could be contacted. As she was called again, she moved forward to stand next to Professor McGonagall. The older woman was using her wand to reassemble one of the fallen fireplaces. "This is really here, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," McGonagall said quietly, pulling her wand arm down, her brow furrowing in concern for the youngest Black sibling. "Are you all right, dear?"

"Please don't ask me that," she repeated. "I mean… look at this place. How much more can you people take?"

"I think you'll find that after the last time, this world can sustain a lot," McGonagall said, returning to her task.

"This… this is what Harry has to fight?"

"Yes."

"How can he do this alone?"

McGonagall finished her incantations and frowned at the rather shoddy position of the fireplace. "He'll just have to. We have little choice."

"But he's just one kid… one man. Look at what those bastards did to an entire office. How can one person stand up against this?"

McGonagall stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Faith's shoulder as the younger girl tried to control her tears. "He has friends who can help him. He has an entire community behind him."

"Even after this?" she asked, turning to face the Deputy Headmistress. "These Death Eaters or whatever knew what they were doing. They knew that destroying the government would make the public's faith about Harry a lot harder to follow. People will lose faith."

"As I said, there are those who are loyal to him and stand by him until the end."

"I hope they didn't think I was going to back away after this," Faith said, looking distraught as her eyes trailed around at the Witches and Wizards moving slowly through the Atrium. "I can't leave him to face this alone or with his friends. I may not have the magic mojo, but I have my strength. There is no way I can leave him to face this alone."

"Faith…"

"No," she said angrily, holding up her hand. "No. I told B I was leaving to protect him. How in the hell is he protected when something like this can happen?" She pointed angrily at the massacre around them. "When I'm done here… can I see him?"

"Of course you can," McGonagall said soothingly. "But for now, could you please remove the barrier from this fireplace so we can set up a Floo network?"

"Yes," Faith said, brushing her eyes clear and moving to the fireplace and reaching in with her right arm. "Of course."

x-o-x

"I know you can't hear me but for what it's worth, I do respect you and what you stand for. I believe that you do have a great deal of power and it will be used for the greater good. I only wish you were awake now. We need you, more than ever."

Irene Ironton smiled down at the pale, gaunt face of the Vampire Slayer once under her care.

"There is much going on and hopefully soon you'll see that you are the hero we've been counting on. You are the one we need. Your brother must live with the knowledge of the prophecy, yes… but you, my dear, have a destiny all your own. Despite the Mark…" She reached down, wincing at the Dark Mark, barely visible beneath her skin. "You will do great things, Buffy. You will—"

"Mrs. Ironton!"

Irene turned around and saw the figure of Kristofer, one of her two vampire hunters. "Kris?"

"It is Mr. Giles… he and Tomas have gotten into a fight," Kristofer gasped, grasping his side as he panted for breath.

"Where are they?" Irene asked, wincing as thunder sounded right over the house.

"Outside… near the river. Come, come!"

As Irene ran past him, Kristofer turned and dropped the act. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his wand and, with an evil grin, moved off behind her.

x-o-x

To be continued…

x-o-o-x

Just for the record, this chapter was only 18 pages long. The previous chapter was 20. The next chapter will also be about 20. There is just so much I want to add to this chapter, but this seemed like a perfect stopping point.

_**Next Chapter**: The Ministry of Magic struggles to pull itself together after the massacre; showdown in Bulgaria between one former Watcher and one psychotic vampire hunter; Draco discovers his father's role at the Ministry of Magic; Faith makes her move…_

**Reviewer Comments** –

One of the hardest things for me to do is kill off a good character. I had so much trouble figuring out a certain main character's death in Aurora Mirabilis. In this past chapter, I killed two for sure and the fates of the other two as well as the death of a fifth were decided in this chapter. Believe me, part of the reason that chapter took so long to write was because it was just that hard to let certain characters go.

**CharmedChick**: Poor sweet Joahn. I'm sorry, but I can't make any promises about which male characters live or die so at the moment, all bets were off. Killing Bill was like killing Xander and as much as I hated to do it there is the realization that this is war and good people die in war. Up until I posted the previous chapter I was undecided in his fate. Oh, and if you are confused, I may have messed something up or otherwise went against something already written.

**Nikki**: Unlike my other stories, this story takes up so much time and energy that it seems a pain to update it. There is just so much going on that it takes a small army of us to tackle it from different angles. But thank you for your review and I hope these chapters were worth the wait.

**Demongirl024**: I had been wanting to write action for so long... the deep, dramatic action and not something you sit there expecting to giggle at. The worst part was killing off Emmeline. I knew she was going to go in the beginning of the story because of something yet to be written. As for the 'rescue', I wanted a couple to do it. After watching Fleur in the Goblet of Fire movie run around and basically be utterly useless, I decided to give her character a fitting end. Bill was a toughie, though. I'm glad you enjoyed the action. All I can say is... much more to come. As for Buffy's entrance back... well, she'll be back at Hogwarts. As for how she comes back, that's yet to be determined. PS, Happy Belated Birthday!

**NiennaFaelivrin**: You won't have to wait as long for the next update, I can assure you of that. This chapter was just a huge pain to figure out and I hope I did it justice.

**Lightdemondarkangel**: One thing about Giles... he has a habit of coming back just when you need him the most. As for the mysterious Death Eater, he will be addressed in the next chapter by name. So, yeah... he didn't die. But he did accomplish his goal, which was to get both Slayers marked. You can see how handy that turned out for Faith.

**Jackie**: Well, well, you might actually get this request then. As I continue working through the outline of this story, it seems more and more prevalent that Harry/Faith will actually happen.

**Smurfinator**: I feel almost guilty in saying this, but there are more to come. I hate being so blase about it, especially since most people like characters I'm gleefully picking off, but it's becoming obvious that this story doesn't exactly convey how serious the situation really is. I love Faith/Sirius because there is just so much potential to explore. As for Buffy charging in to save the day... that won't happen. Yet. She's still in Bulgaria and still in her coma.

**Naitch**: We all know how dangerous Faith is sitting on the side. However, she's about had enough of sitting on the sidelines. Bill's fate is learned in this chapter. Giles was shot, yes... because things are about to go down in Bulgaria. Rest assured our favorite Watcher will be back!

**harmoni9**: I wish I could say the bad stuff was over, but I can't. There is still the penultimate battle and then the final battle coming. Everything looks bleak now, but things will start to get better but the ultimate bad is still to come.


	12. A Light in Dark Places

_**Note: **This chapter was written slowly (as the rest of my updates are really slow) as I haven't been feeling great lately. I'm still working (against protests, mind) and each day is a battle. But I'm fighting this day by day and doing the best I can. Grace, I owe you much for being my backbone on this story. Al, I owe you tons for cheering me up with your own fantabulous storytelling abilities. _

_**Chapter Summary**: The traitor in Bulgaria faces the wrath of a scorned Watcher; an American Slayer faces her fate in the same school that nearly destroyed her sister Slayer; the boy-who-lived faces life knowing that the world he fights to save is falling apart; in her dreams, Buffy faces a frightening proposal and learns the truth behind her life-changing injury…_

_**Warning: **This is the last of the dark, action-type chapters… for now._

**Chapter 12**

**A Light in Dark Places**

**Part III**

x-o-o-x

"And wrath has left its scar -- that fire of hell has left its frightful scar upon my soul." – William Cullen Bryant

"I'm sorry… but are you Elise Potter?"

Buffy froze, her hand halfway to a tray of chocolate bars that looked to die for. Instead, she withdrew her hand, pasted a smile on her face and whirled on her heel to face a young woman in a shiny silver dress smiling brightly at her. "Do I know you?" she asked politely, folding her arms tightly against her chest.

"You used to," the girl said, disappointment flashing in dark eyes. "We went to school together years ago… we used to be friends. I'm Cho, Cho Chang." The girl stepped forward and offered her hand. Buffy, against her better judgment, returned the gesture. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I'm sorry I don't remember you," Buffy said honestly. "I mean, my head…"

"Yes," Cho said sympathetically. "We have all heard about the accident, Ellie."

Buffy paused a moment, tilting her head in thought. "Ellie?"

"Someone we know in common used to call you by that blasted affectionate name," Cho said with a small, fond smile. "I guess over the years it has just… stuck. Anyway, I came over here to offer my congratulations. It isn't everyday that one of us gets engaged to one of them." Her eyes flickered over to Cedric who spoke with an older couple, looking both gracious and humble. Buffy felt a smile tug on her lips at the expression of kindness on his face. Everything about him seemed to warm her even more.

"Well, well, what have we here?" a slightly accented voice asking in a teasing tone.

"There you are," Cho said in an annoyed voice. Buffy turned her head from her fiancé to look at the newcomer. One arm had wound around Cho's waist. The other held a champagne flute which Cho took with relish. "I'm sure you remember—"

"Ellie, right?" the man asked, clearing his throat in an embarrassed manner and moving slightly away from Cho, who sighed. "I know it's been about a year since—"

"Who are you?" Buffy asked in a confused voice. The man seemed so familiar to her and yet she couldn't quite seem to figure out who the heck he was.

"It's Oliver, Elise," Cho said, coming up beside the young man and grasping him by the shoulder.

"I think I know you," she murmured, glancing curiously up at the young man, who smiled slightly. There was a pained look in his eyes that made her stomach clench. Her heart ached at the white line around his mouth. He reached out to touch her but after a moment pulled away.

"I'm glad you're recovering," he said in a quiet, dignified voice.

Buffy struggled not to let her disappointment show, but she knew she couldn't fully hide it. Cho's eyes widened with curiosity when the blonde looked away. "It really is great to see you both again," she said, not looking at either one of them. She was trying to figure out what to do when an arm wrapped itself around her waist and she felt something press into her shoulder.

"Now, now, I hope you kids are playing nice," Cedric said playfully, looking at Cho and Oliver who were uncomfortably standing next to one another. "I hope you don't mind if I excuse us, but we really need to make the rounds."

Oliver had bristled when Cedric had stepped up, but Cho stopped him from moving by placing her hand to his chest. "You can take her, Cedric," she said coolly. As Cedric pulled the blonde away, she turned in irritation to Oliver. His shoulders sagged when he saw her expression.

"I'm sorry, love," he said, leaning over and rubbing her shoulders lightly. "You know I can't stand seeing what he's done to her. If that bloody bastard hadn't come into her life—"

Cho struggled to hold her tears down as she realized what he was saying. "She never would have been shot," she said softly. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she felt the tears glisten in her eyes. "And she never would have turned her back on her friends."

"Least of all you," Oliver said snappishly. "I probably deserved what I got from all of this."

Cho just looked at him tearfully for a moment before moving away.

As Buffy was swept back into the crowd, she felt the strongest sensation that someone was watching her. Turning her neck slightly, she saw Cho and Oliver staring morosely at her from the dessert table. But her gaze swept over to a single figure in the crowd. Wearing a long, black coat with pale hair pulled back from his face, cold silver eyes met hers. She shivered into Cedric's side and quickly glanced away. She felt those cold eyes following her across the room. All at once, she did not feel safe. She didn't feel anything except the cold, dark chill that terrified her.

x-o-x

Giles fell, panting, against a thick trunk of a tree. Heavy rain drilled on him. He glanced at his wet, muddy clothes. He had been stumbling around for God knew how long in this horrid terrain in the middle of a thunderstorm. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by the growing rumble of thunder. The mansion was well within plain sight now. He pushed himself forward again, convincing himself that Buffy was in danger and that his Slayer needed him now more than ever.

What he didn't count on was stumbling over something hard. He fell onto his face, his glasses falling into a muddy dip in the ground. Reaching through the mud, he removed his glasses and sighed, pushing himself to his knees. His blurred gaze swept back to the thing he had tripped over and suddenly he felt as though he had stopped breathing.

A figure was lying against a tree with her back to him. Her back was bloody, a pool of blood running rivulets down to the muddy dips.

"Irene?" he asked quietly, stepping over the figure. He reached for her face, which was cold. Her eyes were slightly open. As he moved her head she suddenly gasped out loud. Giles moved back, bending down to a crouch as he examined the extreme injuries. She looked like she had been stabbed over and over again in the abdominal area. Seeing the small, ornate dagger to his left confirmed it. "Irene?"

"The boy… has gone… after the girl… betrayed us all…" she rasped, coughing. She lifted a blood-soaked arm to her abdomen as she continued coughing, streams of blood flowing down her pointed chin. "Was just trying to help," she moaned, falling into the tree.

"Easy, Irene," Giles said comfortingly. "Easy, now."

"Rupert," Irene said, glancing blearily at him. "He said… you were dead."

"I'm quite alive and I'm quite here," he replied quietly, his fingers pulling away the material of her blazer and wincing at her injuries. He knew that she would bleed to death certainly, but the daggers had done their job by allowing her die in the most painful way. "And you?"

"I know what's going to happen to me," Irene said, closing her eyes against the pain as she weakly struggled to sit up. Giles quickly helped her against the tree as she clung to the large roots helplessly. "I know I'm going to die," she continued in a whisper. "But that girl…"

"She's a Slayer and she can hold her own," Giles said softly as he removed his soaked, muddy blazer and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders.

"That girl must live, Rupert," she said, reaching forward and grasping his hand suddenly. "She is the future. If she dies, the boy will die. If he dies, our world will end."

"I will do everything I can to protect my Slayer," Giles said in a comforting voice. He heard the hitch in her breath and knew her end was coming. "I will kill him if necessary."

"Can you do that?" she asked him softly, her eyes widening despite her unbearable pain. "Can you take a human life?"

"My Slayer killed a man because he destroyed everything that she stood for," Giles replied.

"No, she didn't," Irene sighed, closing her eyes again and struggling to catch her breath. "She didn't kill him… at all…"

"What are you saying?" Giles asked. "She killed Quentin Travers in plain sight of Faith, the other vampire Slayer."

"Quentin Travers didn't die, Rupert," Irene said, turning her head to look him in the eye. "He lives…"

Giles sat back on his heels, struggling to understand what this meant. Buffy's basic exclusion from the magical world had been because she had taken a human life. But the man she had driven through with a sword hadn't died at all. He was still alive, meaning that his Slayer had spent the past six months suffering for nothing.

"Rupert…"

He turned to the weak voice calling his name and reached for her hand, holding it as she struggled to breathe and, once she couldn't take a breath, she passed on. Rain rolled down her face, washing away the blood.

He sighed heavily, standing up and gazing at the mansion. His eyes searched his surroundings. Night would soon come… and he knew what he needed to do.

x-o-x

Rain rolled down the window panes at Hogwarts. Harry stared longingly outside at the muddy yards before wrapping his cloak tighter around himself and strolled the darkened hallways. Hermione was a few paces behind him, uncharacteristically quiet. The Head Boy and Head Girl were walking the halls of Hogwarts to check for students caught out-of-bounds by the new rules. Hogwarts was basically under lock-down since the attack at the Ministry of Magic that morning. He turned and glanced with concern at the figure standing behind him. Hermione was standing still, the rain reflecting in her dark eyes.

"All right, Hermione?" he asked casually.

She didn't answer. She stared out the window and sighed, turning away. He longed to go to her, to hold her… but his own senses called him back. She was hurting. They were both hurting.

The Ministry of Magic had been attacked that morning and hundreds of Ministry employees were dead or missing. Buffy, his own sister, was in a coma after being wounded and thus far they had not received any additional news. Anything they had hoped to hear was lost in the Ministry attack.

Hermione and Ginny in particular had been shaken to hear the news of Buffy's personal attack. They had grown close to the Potter girl, called her a friend and considered her as a member of their house. Watching Ginny be in pain was hard enough, but to see Hermione shed tears was mere torture. He had forced himself to walk the corridors alone and, after Ron had basically begged him to, he had pulled Hermione along with him with the intent to cheer her up.

As always, he was doing a fantastic job.

"Hermione, there was nothing you could have done," he said quietly, appealing to her sense of logic which seemed to have flown directly out the castle.

Still, she did not answer. Feeling frustrated, Harry sped up out of Hermione's sight and sighed. How was he dealing with the pressure of learning the one organization capable of putting Voldemort to rest had basically been desecrated? He was trying to comfort his friends. He was hurting himself. He felt as though something painful had twisted in his gut. The Ministry which he had always counted on as being there, like Dumbledore, was gone. His sister, who he barely knew, was gone. His friends were slowly fading. Ron was pale at learning that his father and brothers had been trapped. When he learned the news of Bill's death, he had withdrawn to the seventh year room and had not yet come back.

Ginny had stormed tearfully from the Gryffindor common room when she was told of Bill's death. Professor McGonagall had just closed her eyes as she rolled her scroll, promising them that they would receive updates as soon as available.

Harry felt empty inside. He had always admired Bill. He had been the cool brother, the one that seemed so unlike the others. And now a life that was so bright and so fresh was gone. Others had died, too. There were parents of Gryffindor students that had been killed. His heart went out to the Wood children when they were told their parents were still missing. He knew that Oliver Wood would return upon hearing the news that his parents were likely dead.

He turned the corner of the corridor and stopped. A single figure was standing near the Entrance Hall, talking to someone. He blinked and moved closer. He could have sworn the figure was Faith. For a moment, he couldn't believe it. But as he moved closer, the figure stopped talking to Professor McGonagall and turned back to look at the figure approaching them. Her hands clenched into fists but soon relaxed as a familiar, pale face came into view.

For a moment, they just stood there, staring at one another.

For a moment, Harry thought he couldn't breathe. Just when he felt that so much had been taken away, she was there standing in front of him. Her face wore the obvious signs of fatigue. There was blood smudged on her clothes and face. Her skin was pale and her eyes were bright. She was obviously hurting over something. He half-wondered if she knew anything about what had happened to Buffy.

"Faith?" he asked tremulously, pleading that this wasn't some shadow.

"Harry," she said, not smiling. She moved towards him. Moments later she was in his arms. He felt everything break down as he held her. He felt her cling to him. His bones began to crack at her effort. Moments later he heard her quiet cries. His hand moved up to touch her blood-splattered hair. "Shh," he whispered soothingly into her ear as she continued to cry. Something really upset him seeing his Slayer act like this. She wasn't supposed to cry. She was supposed to be witty and mouthy and call things like they were. To know that Faith had been shaken by all of these events unnerved him entirely. "Shh…"

"I'm sorry, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, appearing suddenly behind Faith. "But we must speak with Faith now. She has… been through a lot this day. Her blood alone could open the seal the Death Eaters placed on the Ministry."

Harry nodded, his fingers absentmindedly trailing down her arm and tracing the outline of the reddish mark on her arm. "I understand."

Her face softened as Faith pulled away, wiping her eyes. "I'm so sorry, P," she chuckled in an embarrassed sort of way, stepping back towards the Deputy Headmistress. "I just kind of fell apart there."

"It's all right," Harry said in a comforting voice. "My shoulder is there for a reason, Faith."

She gave him a dark half-smile before turning to trail off behind Minerva McGonagall.

At the end of the hall, Hermione watched the exchange as what remained of her heart felt like it was breaking further. Pressing a hand to her eyes, she pressed her back against the cold wall and felt her own sobs bubbling to the surface.

Deep in the dungeons, a single figure read from a black letter delivered to him by his owl not ten minutes before. Draco Malfoy opened the letter with flourish but froze at the opening line. Most of his classmates had grown bored of the lock-down and had gone to bed. He couldn't really blame them. If he had been able to sleep, he would have followed them. Instead he remained awake, a book on his lap and the darkest feeling in his soul.

This letter confirmed his darkest fears: his father had been involved in the attack at the Ministry. This letter was a call to all Slytherins to rise up against the likes of Dumbledore and all who supported him and destroy the foundations of Hogwarts by bringing the school to its knees.

The prospect of doing so a year ago would have been delicious. He could just imagine throwing Harry down a peg or two. He could see himself at the top of school, spitting on all the Gryffindors who had gotten the best of them all of these years. He could see the Mudbloods being expelled and being left in the street as worthless peons or, better yet, serving the pure bloods as servants. It was a beautiful prospect.

It wasn't as tempting anymore. The thought of turning the school into his own personal playground sickened him. Was he to act like his father by achieving these means to an end by committing murder? Draco knew he was incapable of murder. He wasn't like a Slayer or anything.

How could he not do as his father asked him to? He was a handsome young man with a great load of power, prestige and gold. He could have great impact on the things to come. But the letter was written all the wrong way. Ripping it to shreds, he cast it in the fire before throwing caution to the wind. He would risk being sent to detention by the likes of someone like Potter or Granger by walking around the corridors that night.

What he didn't expect to see was a figure sitting near a staircase lost in the shadows. His eyes widened and then narrowed suspiciously when he saw the tiny figure of Ginny Weasley sitting on the floor sobbing her heart out.

"What's wrong, Weasel?" he asked maliciously as he made to stride past her.

Ginny lifted her head from her arms and glared hatefully at him. "Go away, you pretentious snake," she snapped angrily, wiping away her tears.

Something inside of him snapped. Part of him wanted to put her down in the cruelest, harshest way and take pleasure in that broken, crestfallen face. The other part of him longed to listen to what was on her mind and do something useful for a change.

"What is it?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Her eyes narrowed and she sniffled loudly. "Like you care," she said, her voice rising in volume.

He reached inside his pocket and drew out his handkerchief, flinging it at the distraught girl. "Then forget it," he replied coldly. "I was just offering to listen, you know. It wasn't like I meant to insult you." As he moved away, Ginny stared at the handkerchief sitting on the floor near her feet for one moment before she felt herself doing something against her better judgment.

"My brother was killed today."

Draco froze and turned around, seeing Ginny clutching his hankie to her eyes which had started to leak again. "What?" he asked quietly.

"Like you don't know," she spat out, getting to her feet and storming towards him. "Your Daddy had this planned from the beginning, didn't he? He hates my family that much to go after them? He wanted to kill them all that badly?"

"I… I didn't know," Draco stammered. "I… I'm sorry."

Ginny's jaw was set as she glared up at him. "You would have been there by Daddy's side, wouldn't you?" she accused, her eyes narrowing further. "You would have been there at his side ordering the deaths of all of those he considered friends. Do you know what your father is, Draco? He's a traitor. He betrayed this government and he betrayed you. Yes, Draco," she said, smirking at the look on his face, "your father stuck you and your mother in this mess all for the sake of his sweet Dark Lord. Do you want to know what is going to happen to him once he learns that the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is likely responsible for what happened to Harry's sister?"

"What… what happened to his sister?" Draco asked blankly.

"Didn't you hear?" Ginny asked humorlessly. "Buffy has been attacked in Buglaria. She's in a coma. She's dying."

"What?" Draco asked incredulously.

"That is what your father did. Are you proud of him now… dragon?" Ginny asked snidely as she slipped past him, running up the stairs and into the night. It was all Draco could do not to follow her. Anyone in the path of her anger tonight would need the extra protection.

x-o-x

St. Mungo's was normally a quiet place where healers treated specific cases one by one when they came in. They hadn't seen such activity since before the war. When the news came that the Ministry of Magic had been attacked, all staff that was off-duty was recalled and measures were taken to ensure that they would have enough staff to deal with the pressures when they came.

They weren't ready to deal with this.

Staff poured into corridors and through doors, gurneys passing from one end to the other. The lobby was quickly filled with concerned family members awaiting news despite the Ministry's statements that all families were to remain in their homes and wait to be contacted by a Ministry representative.

The number of wounded soon thinned out as the dead bodies started appearing. A temporary morgue was set up after the doors leading to a shop next door were blasted. The abandoned store soon became filled with bodies and those moving around in the attempt to identify them. Voices shouted frantically back and forth. Those injured were treated and quickly pushed out to make way for the next.

Tonks sat on a small table as a healer tapped at her arm. Stretching her fingers, Tonks felt her arm was fully healed and thanked the man for his time. He barely murmured a response before he was on to the next person. She moved out of the way and stepped into a crowded hallway, trying to find a familiar place. She saw healers kicking at the wall in the attempt to free up more space for the wounded. She heard people shouting as they marched down the corridors, yelling the names of their loved ones.

Tonks didn't remember being rescued. They had been found in their corridor by a grim-faced Remus Lupin. He had helped her over to someone else before turning down to look at Wesley.

Wesley! Tonks wondered what had happened to him. But even as she wondered, she came across a gurney with his sullen figure heaped on it. "Wesley?" she asked quietly, slipping clumsily between two gurneys and glancing down at his pale face. "Are you okay? What did they say?"

"I've been here for more than an hour," Wesley grunted through clenched teeth. "Can they not see I'm in obvious pain?"

Tonks sighed and looked around, grabbing the arm of the first healer she saw. "Can you please help this man?"

Cynthia turned as a woman with brilliant purple hair had latched onto her arm and was begging her to treat a man in obvious pain on the gurney she was wedged against. "I'm sorry," she shouted back, pushing the woman's arm away. "I'm not qualified to help him. I will try and find someone to help you though."

Someone shouted her name down the corridor and apologizing again to the woman she took off running.

"What is it?" she asked another woman down the hall.

"We need help upstairs," the woman replied, shoving a box into Cynthia's arms. "These are images that were taken from the bodies. Could you put them up? Hopefully someone can recognize these victims. Maybe send a copy to the press too."

"Right," Cynthia panted as she stared at the numerous photos in the box.

"Go!" the woman shouted, turning back to her task of opening up yet more space.

As Cynthia ran, she ran past a pair sitting on a gurney staring morosely around them. Emma Vance was quiet as she stared at her feet while Percy Weasley fretted about, complaining loudly that people weren't moving fast enough. Emma knew he wanted to get back to the site of the disaster to offer what assistance he could and she admired that quality of leadership he had been sorely lacking before today. But she wasn't in the mood to gratify it.

Down the hall, a single figure stopped a gurney and reached for the pale arm on the stretcher. "Look at this," a man hissed to his partner, holding the cold arm up and shaking it. The Dark Mark was barely visible but it was there. "A Death Eater… one was actually killed in this attack?"

"Look at her face," another man said, touching the cold face of the dark-haired woman. "Blimey! I wonder if that's old Bellatrix. You know, the one that escaped a few years back?"

"It does sort of resemble her," the man muttered as he continued pushing the gurney on. "We best get this one to the morgue."

Arthur Weasley stood in the lobby, using his own Ministry power to ask the hundreds crammed in between the four walls for their patience. He saw a woman frantically putting pictures up on a blood-spattered wall outside in the attempt to help people identify the ones that had died. Aurors were showing up on scene now to help with crowd control, paving a path for the gurneys to roll down the corridors without interference. Arthur was rather relieved when Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared, looking dark and sour.

"Bad luck, this," he said in a tired voice to Arthur who moved to speak with them. "Is there anyone from the administration left?"

"We haven't seen any bodies," Arthur replied quietly. "But my son is still alive."

"The one with the ponytail?" Kingsley asked in that low voice of his.

"No," Arthur sighed heavily. "The other one. Once he has been treated, he will likely take charge."

"Can I see your ankle, miss?"

Emma glanced down at the Healer bent next to her knees, gazing at her wounded ankle. Emma stared thoughtfully at it, almost forgetting that she had been injured by the Inferius as she had tried to escape the elevator cage. "It was an—"

"Inferius, I know," the Healer replied softly. "We have seen quite a few of these injuries. They're bloody and gory and some are untreatable. We will do all we can to save your ankle."

"Please," Emma whispered.

When she looked up, she felt as though her heartbeat was thundering in her ears. A figure was rolling painfully by, a stunning figure that was part-Veela and all heroine. Emma felt another sob choke out of her. Silently, Percy reached over to take her hand. "Let's just pray for the souls of our friends," he said quietly. "Let's hope they all rest in peace."

Emma could hardly argue with that. All she could do was nod and force herself to look at Percy as she felt excruciating pain in her foot. It all seemed like they had a lot of healing to do now.

x-o-x

A hand tightened over the barrel of a simple pistol. Though the rain beat heavily on his fatigued figure, Kristofer turned eyes to the fallen figure of the leader of their so-called group. The woman had finally passed on after being left to slowly and painfully bleed to death. He moved to her side and bent down, reaching for the dagger he knew he'd left planted next to a rock.

The dagger wasn't there.

He cursed loudly and rose, holding the gun down at his side. "Who's there?" he shouted into the rain. "Who's there? Come out and fight me!"

He heard nothing but the sound of the leaves rustling and the crash of thunder from the storm directly over them. He felt a sudden sense of calmness knowing that all of his adversaries were dead. Now all he had to do was go back and finish off the Watcher. Then he could revive the girl and leave.

But when he reached the river, he found Tomas. But the young man was alone. The Watcher was nowhere in sight.

He cursed again, pointing the gun this way and that, attempting to find a hidden adversary in the shadows. As his movements grew more frenzied, a figure watched and waited. Kristofer finally turned and lowered the weapon, breathing hard. "I know you're out there," he spat out. "I know you're there, hiding in the woods, waiting for the storm to pass. Well, old man, I will find you. When I do, I'll—" His voice was suddenly cut off as something heavy slammed across the back of his head.

The gun went spinning from his hand as he landed face-first in the mud. Spluttering, he turned to see a branch from a tree that had fallen from above his head. His eyes narrowed as he got to his knees.

Standing in front of him, very much alive, was the figure of Rupert Giles. In his blood-stained hands was the missing dagger. The older man looked Kristofer in the eye and said quietly, "Looking for me?"

Kris smirked as he staggered to his feet, his eyes never leaving the dagger pointed directly at his heart. "Do I look afraid to you?"

"And do I look dead to you?" Rupert asked calmly. He looked like he was rather enjoying himself. "Is this what your Dark Lord planned? Did he want the Slayer to be saved for him?"

Kristofer felt his cold grin widen as he held out his right arm and rolled his sopping sleeve up. There were no marks on his arms. At seeing the Watcher's surprised look, he countered, "Do you think that I would be in this position if I was one of them?"

For a moment, all was still. Wiping the rain and mud from his face, Kris took a step forward. Giles moved over to block him, using the dagger. Kristofer paused and started laughing. "Right… right! Do you really think you can kill me?"

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't."

"I can save your Slayer," Kris taunted. At seeing the emotion suddenly spring to the older man's eyes, Kris knew he had hit a nerve.

"What did you do to her?" Giles asked.

"I never meant to kill her, but preserve her," Kris replied. "She was meant for a greater purpose than serving as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's royal servant. She's worth more than that." His grin cooled further. "She's worth nothing to us dead. If I die here, she'll die."

"No," Rupert said, his own cold grin lighting his face up as he moved slowly around to keep pace with the other figure. "If she dies, you die. You've gone through all the trouble to kill Tomas. You killed Irene Ironton. Now… how about we settle this like men?"

Kris glanced at the knife, saw that his gun was missing, knew that his wand was in his back pocket and knew that reaching for it would give the Watcher a clear shot at his heart. His only option was to run. As he ran, the branches slapping him in the face, catching on his clothes, he heard the frenzied footsteps of the man chasing behind him. He struggled to breathe and thought his chest was going to explode if he didn't stop running.

He came to a stop in a clearing near the mansion, doubling over and clutching his knees as he gasped for breath. But even as he regained his train of thought, he realized he couldn't hear anyone running around him. He dared a few steps forward, listening hard over the waning sounds of pattering rain. His smile grew darker as he heard nothing. Maybe, with his luck, the stupid old man would have tripped and fallen into the river. Wouldn't that be tragic?

Turning, he eyed the mansion and began moving. He was about to reach the clearing in sight of the front steps when something hard slammed into him and he was flung to the ground. Grunting in pain, he kicked out, making contact with a solid body. He saw the flash of the knife and kicked out again, catching the hand that wielded the dagger and forcing it away. The knife went spinning into oblivion. Knowing his captor was unarmed; Kris dove forward and landed atop the man, his hands moving to his neck. Giles gasped as his glasses were knocked askew and he fought back, pummeling the young man's face with as much strength as he could muster. He called upon his Wiccan strengths and Kris bellowed as he jumped off of him, his hands burning.

The knife was only a few feet away. Kris, still rubbing his injured hands and cursing in his native Russian dove for the knife just as Giles sat up. It was the sound of a gunshot that stilled Kris as he turned to look at the former Watcher, the knife clutched in his hand.

The old man was getting to his feet, lowering the weapon from where he had fired it into the air.

"I don't know about you, but I'm a little tired of your games," Rupert said in his dangerously quiet voice. "If you want to toy with me with your magic, lets. I've got years under my belt, boy."

"You want magic?" Kris asked, bringing forth his wand and aiming it at the older man. "I'd like to see some magic."

Giles just smiled at him, taunting him. Losing control of his thought completely, Kris ran at the man, knocking him off balance before he could fire the shot. As the gun fell to the ground, Kris forgot about his wand and dove for the weapon, even as he felt the crushing pain in his back as he was attacked again by the old man. As both grasped hold of the gun, they continued their relentless fight. Curses were thrown back and forth as Kris regained a hold of his wand. Giles easily repelled the curses with his hand and murmured new curses of his own, sending Kris sprawling into the mud and soaring high through the trees and slamming painfully into different objects.

At long last, the two faced one another. Kris held his wand out. Giles stood there with his hands out to protect himself. Neither was without injury. The gun lay somewhere between them. Without realizing it, both men once again dove for it. Magic wasn't going to kill the other; only a solid bullet would. Punching the old man across the jaw, Kris grabbed the gun, released the safety and held it up, aiming for the middle of Rupert Giles' forehead.

The air around them seemed to pause. Lightning illuminated the scene as Kris sat back on his heels, his cold grin endearing the old man to tempt one move. Giles knew if he reacted once, he was a dead man. His only hope was to stare him down and hope the young man would lose his nerve. Kris hesitated and in that one second the old man was on top of him.

And then the gun fired… a single shot rang out and the night at last fell silent.

x-o-x

"I'll get the coats and call for the car," Cedric said as he paused in the doorway, his lovely fiancé at his side. "I shan't be more than few minutes, love."

"I'll see you then," Buffy said with a bright smile as Cedric kissed her cheek and hurried off. Buffy watched him leave, her fingers toying with the stunning ring on her fourth finger. It certainly looked as though it belonged there. Before she could get lost in her thoughts, a throat cleared from behind her. She turned and saw a single figure standing there, illuminated in warm blue lights from the foyer. "Hi."

"Hello," the young man said, walking over to her. "I forgot to congratulate you on your engagement. It's quite an honor, I hear."

"Yes," Buffy said in a careful voice, not quite trusting the pained look in the young man's eyes. "I am quite honored. What are you doing here?"

"I… I just have to know… are you all right? I mean, are you truly all right?"

How could she answer him without scaring the hell out of him?

"I'm not sure," she tried.

"Elise?" He was so close now. She felt his breath on her face. She struggled not to cry. His hand reached over and touched her face, tipping it to his. "Ellie?"

"I don't remember," she whispered. She felt his fingers under her eyes, readying to catch a stray tear. Breathing was almost impossible now as she was forced to look into those concerned eyes. There were other emotions in them, too. That is part of what terrified her. His other hand moved to cover her mouth.

"Shh…" he whispered, moving to draw her closer to him. "We're here for you, Ellie. I'm here for you. Something's happened to you, something big. What is it?"

It was the loud sound of voices that broke them apart. She blinked as the young man disappeared quickly and turned around, hugging herself to ward off the sudden chill that seemed to permeate her skin.

"Ah," a quiet voice suddenly toned. She glanced over her shoulder to see three men walking towards her, one looking delighted. "Miss Potter, yes… we've been searching you out all evening."

"Can I help you?" she asked in a cool voice. While part of her was glad she had been interrupted before doing something stupid, another part of her was wondering why the sight of these three men was wigging her out.

"Hmm, gentlemen," a tall, blonde man said, detaching himself from the others and moving to tower over the young woman. "She doesn't remember us."

"We shall have to remind her," a calm voice said as an older man appeared, tugging on an old bowling hat. "I believe it has something to do with a certain pick-up a certain officer decided to certainly spoil for us."

At seeing the chilling look in the blonde-haired man's eyes, Elise suddenly couldn't breathe. "What?"

"That shot that you took wasn't meant for you," the third man said in a tired voice. He was younger than the others and had a distinctly ratty look about him. "That was meant for a much bigger fish. But you decided to jump early and got in the way. We couldn't have you blathering about to Sergeant McG now, could we?"

"What?" she asked again, unwilling to believe that she somehow had gotten shot… as a mistake! "Who is this Sergeant—"

"The point is, the next time we have a pick-up, it would be best for you not to blow your cover," the other man said with an impatient sigh. "Surely you would know by now that your antics are only going to get you killed. Peter here as an itchy trigger finger."

"Sorry about that," the ratty man apologized, bowing his head to her.

"Quiet, Travers," the blonde-haired man sneered. "You imbecile!" He closed his eyes and smirked suddenly, turning to look reproachfully at the young woman cowering into the wall. "The point is, you chose this assignment to help yourself. And you have reaped the rewards, have you not?" His silvery eyes flickered around them. "You have bagged the most influential bachelor in the country, your friends are amongst the most powerful of the political spectrum, you have passed your probationary period at Scotland Yard with flying colors and you have had the honor of working with one of the darkest and infamous crime rings in the south of London."

Buffy couldn't even move her mouth, much less speak. What she was hearing shocked her.

"Nevertheless, when we move to take out an officer who has been impeding our pick-ups for months, we expect you to follow our lead and not to play the hero. Regardless of what you have done, it will still happen. But if you slip again…" At the end of his words was a veiled threat. "If you fail us again, we will kill your fiancée and his family. We will kill your family and your friends… oh, wait… I suppose your friends are amongst us here." There was a hint of cold laughter before the man slipped up a gloved hand. The laughter died immediately. "Do not disappoint us again, dearest Potter. If you do, you will end up with more than a bullet in your brain." He bent down so his lips were near her ear. "We'll be watching you… don't slip up. And do not disappoint us again."

As the men disappeared, Buffy found herself desperately hoping that what she had heard was untrue. How could she be a traitor, someone working against her department? How could she possibly be someone to set up these appointments and pay the price with the blood of those she loved? No wonder her friends didn't recognize her! The old Elise must have known that these men would not hesitate to kill anyone close to her!

Even Cedric was threatened…

"Elise?"

Buffy uttered a soft scream before glancing up into Cedric's concerned face.

"What is it?" he asked, automatically wrapping his arm around her shoulder and drawing her cloak around her. "Are you all right?"

"Let's get out of here, okay?" she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice. From the way they had spoken, it sounded like they were all watching her. The feeling of being unclean and unsafe multiplied even as Cedric led her outside.

"We'll go. A few minutes from now, you'll be safe and sound at home."

Buffy knew she'd be alone at her house and the thought terrified her. Instead, she swallowed her rising fears and faced Cedric, planting what she hoped was a seductive smile on her face. "No," she said throatily. "Your place."

His hand paused on the door handle before he could open it for her. "Are you certain?"

Her trembling hand moved to touch his face as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. His hand reached down around her waist to pull her closer as she deepened the kiss. As she landed on her feet, she smiled breathlessly at him. "I've never been more certain." Or safer with you, she added silently.

"Your wish is my command," Cedric said in a teasing voice as he pulled the door open. Glancing once around her to make sure she wasn't being watched, she slipped inside the vehicle. She knew it was silly to be so paranoid… but she had a feeling that those men weren't exactly kidding when it came to their threats. And since the lives of those she loved were at stake… she wasn't willing to bet them either. At least this way, she'd be safe. She'd be with the man she loved and would one day marry.

x-o-x

Within hours of arriving at St. Mungo's, Wesley had his own room. Stretching his legs out on his cot, he narrowed his eyes and focused his attention on the young man hovering over his bedside. A small notebook was floating in midair with what looked like a quill poised above it. When Nymphadora Tonks had asked him to talk to one of her superiors, he didn't think it would be this soon. Night had fallen and still people arrived, but more were dead than alive.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Wesley cleared his throat and attempted to smile at the man. "Yes… what was the question?"

"I asked you for your name," the man said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Oh. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce," he said quietly. The man's quill froze as he gazed as Wesley curiously.

"Your father was Lincoln Pryce?"

"Yes," Wesley said softly. "My father was Lincoln Wyndham-Pryce."

"I was sorry to hear of your father's death," the man said, folding his arms uncomfortably. "Some of us respected him. He was a good man."

Wesley frowned at the man before turning his attention back to the wall. "Any other questions."

"Yes," the man said, shaking himself from his stupor. "How did… you were…"

Wesley chuckled under his breath, threading his fingers together and slipping them behind his head, shifting his bruised body on his cot. "You might want to sit down. This might take awhile…"

The young man pulled the healer's chair over and sat. "I guess what I want to know is… how did you escape?"

"I didn't," Wesley confessed. "I was trapped in that godforsaken place for weeks… asked a bunch of questions by those you call Unspeakables. Yes, they were onto me about some prophecy of the Slayers, wanting to keep a Watcher safe. They kept me safe, all right. When they all ran away when the attacks began, I was trapped, alone. But then the door opened. There was a man there. He said his name was Malfoy. He said he wanted to help me, to keep me safe… he said my life was worth more than many in the Ministry because of what I was. I think he knew I was a Watcher."

"Did he… excuse me, did he…"

Wesley smiled sadly at the young man. "He never hurt me. He never pulled a wand. He just held the door open and told me my freedom was there. I managed to find a shaft. I saw those… they looked like zombies, but more transparent, more frightening… they didn't once make a pass at me. They went right past me as though they knew I was untouchable."

The young man was blinking incredulously, lost beyond words.

"I managed to make it to one of the doors and fell out. I was rescued by Nymphadora Tonks."

"That's… that's… wow," the man said, scratching his head uncertainly. "You certainly went through the strainer."

"It's unbelievable what one man can go through," Wesley said, fixing his dark eyes on the man, "especially when your own people think you're the enemy. If you truly knew my father, you know that I am no enemy. You trapped me in that room because you knew I was capable of helping a Slayer."

"One of the Slayers is in Bulgaria and the other is in London."

"She is?" Wesley asked in surprise.

"Yes. It was her blood, the blood of the Death Eater, which opened the passage to allow us to rescue those like you who were trapped alive inside."

"Isn't that ironic?" Wesley asked tightly. "You were so ready to call her the pariah. Guess you never figured she'd come in handy when it came to saving lives."

"No, we never figured that," the man said uncomfortably. "We actually never counted on a lot of things."

"I want to see her," Wesley said softly. "Will you let me see her?"

"Who?"

"My Slayer," Wesley said quietly. "Buffy is still in Bulgaria, which means that Faith is around. May I see her?"

The young man bit his lip and looked aside, looking pained. Wesley took this as something bad and tried to sit up but fell back, the pain in his head increasing. "There is something else you need to know."

"About…"

"The Slayer in Bulgaria," the young man replied. "I was briefed before coming in here by the Minister's staff member… Weasley. He knew Buffy well…"

"Well…?" Wesley said after a moment of silence.

"There has been an accident…"

x-o-x

In the dead of night, she couldn't sleep. Her mind just kept showing her strange images and nightmares. She saw the faces of the three men who had confronted her that night. She saw the man with a ponytail, the man who looked somewhat mousy and the other man who looked tubby and smug. She knew she underestimated. She would not make the same mistake again.

"Love?"

Buffy barely moved as she glanced at the bed next to her.

"Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head.

"Can I get you anything?"

She smiled darkly. "I'd like my memory back."

He sighed and moved towards her, sliding from the bed and wrapping his arms around her. "I wish I could, Elise. I really, really wish I could help you."

Her eyes closed, trying to figure out why there were faces hovering above hers that didn't belong there. It was almost like she didn't belong there.

"Go to sleep," she heard her voice say. She opened her eyes and felt the warmth of his body fade as he moved away.

"I'm getting you some warm milk first."

She grimaced in disgust but managed to hold her posture. "I'll be right here," she murmured. As he left the room, she pushed the blinds aside and watched the world in darkness below. "I'll be waiting…"

x-o-x

Draco had almost made it back to the Slytherin Common Room when he saw his Head of House waiting for him. He wasn't waiting alone. He stepped forward, a familiar-looking envelope tucked between his hand and his cloak as though making to disguise it but not quite. The figure on the other side of Professor Snape stepped forward. She was a few inches shorter than him, pale with dark hair and matching eyes.

"I will leave you two be," Professor Snape said after a moment, somewhat amused by the Malfoy boy and the Black girl staring at each other. "Good night, Miss Black."

She didn't answer him. Her eyes were on Draco who stood there, shocked to see the girl that had mauled him just months before.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked coldly. He may have been nice to Weasley, but he was drawing the line at being nice to this Slayer.

The girl stared at him a moment longer before glaring at the Slytherin door. "Are you going to show me where I'm gonna live or not?"

x-o-x

In the days that followed, all would remember that their safe world had fallen by the wayside. The morgue set up inside St. Mungo's revealed that bitter truth. Many believed that they were safe in their homes with only a few occurrences of violence here and there, far away from everything they knew. But this attack had come to the heart of the Magical government, setting in effect motion that could never be undone.

Hundreds of caskets lined the floor of the old shop above the corner bookstore. It had once been abandoned to ruin but was changed when the space was needed. All of the staff who was working on the day of the attack would remember cutting down doors and bursting out walls in order to get the space they needed to do the work they needed to do.

Percy Weasley, a young man who had faced his own demons during the attack, stood at a small dais set up near the doors. People flooded through from the wards, seeking their loved ones. He glanced at them all, his face pale. He had lost his brother. He had lost those he worked for. He even lost the woman he loved. But nothing could dampen the resolve that was firmly set in his eyes or quiet the hands that tightened on the wooden podium. His anger gave him his strength. He would not forget that.

Not again.

He was about to eulogize the deaths of more than three hundred. Some of them he worked with everyday. Some he never knew, never bothered to know. What sort of Minister of Magic was he going to be? He looked to his father who had aged ten years in less than a week. His father's faint smile was enough to strengthen him onward.

"This is a war. This was a battle. We are all victims to circumstance and this battle was no different. These are not your loved ones, family, friends or neighbors. They were needless sacrifices from our enemy which was driven to desperation. Of this I am quite sure, that if we open a quarrel between the past and the present, we shall find that we have lost the future. The war of the past was won by mere chance. This war, the new war, is no victory to those of us living here today with the memory of the dead."

Emma Vance stood over her mother's casket, her hand on the cool crystal. The transparent top illuminated Emmeline's soft features, the features Emma herself inherited. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries. Every prayer of taking back the past weeks went unanswered. She lived with the pain that no living person should ever have to bear, a scar of wrath imprinted on her soul.

"We ask ourselves why we face this. Why do we deserve to die? Why does any man or woman deserve to live? We have a purpose. For so long, we have been disjointed. Petty thoughts and envy have led us astray. We have deterred for so long. We were blinded by the truth. And that truth was justified in action. We have lost our government, the one body we looked to for protection against an enemy so strong that none but one can save our world from his tyranny."

Nymphadora Tonks, standing among the remains of her team, stared sadly into the face of an unknown person who had been killed. The body was so badly mauled it was unrecognizable. Everything in her person screamed that this was beyond murder and torture.

"Everything now depends on the one who can stop He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Everything depends on his sacrifice." Here Percy's voice grew choked and he blinked uncertainly as tears sprang to his eyes. "There never has been, I suppose, in all the world, in all the history of war, such an opportunity for youth. We forget that a child who could not defend himself defeated the greatest threat our world has ever faced. But we can't forget that now. We forgot about those that died before us when the war had begun. There are those who died for nothing and those who died in vain. We have forgotten that war affects us all. We have forgotten that what matters the most is not in whether or not we live normal lives but to live at all."

Glancing up, Percy saw that most of the visitors were watching him. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to be someone standing there telling people exactly what they never wanted to hear in the first place.

"Do not forget what happened here," he concluded, his voice full of emotion. "We have all lost those we love." He met his mother's eyes, which were glistening. "We have all fought a war we know nothing about. But now the time comes to grieve. We must be cautious. The war will return to us and we must all ask ourselves if we have a will to live. If we do, nothing save the apocalypse will stop us from fighting till we die. We will not stop fighting until this evil is over. Even know, the International Confederation of Wizards is sending an interim council to assist those of us without staunch leadership. Witches and Wizards from all over the world are offering their support in a war they know we will win. And we will win. There is no defeat for us. For our defeat means our deaths. We will support Harry Potter with whom this war will end."

He glanced down. "My heart and soul is with each and every one of you in your losses. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, I offer our full support in your grief. Thank you for coming today."

As he stepped off the podium, he breathed out. He knew that if he was his old self he would be welcoming compliments, shaking hands and acting like the pompous git he was. But now he had one mission and one alone. The moment he reached his mother's side he pulled her into his arms and held her close as she sobbed brokenly into his shoulder.

Fred and George stood on either side of Bill's casket. George smiled fondly at his elder brother as he set down a tiny pin embroidered with his initials. "We'll see you soon, bro," Fred whispered, his hand lingering on the surface for a moment.

Percy moved from his family, unable to look at his brother's face. It was hard enough to see his broken body on the floor.

His eyes sought out instead the Clearwaters. When he saw them, he sighed and greeted them. They shook hands and spoke, but he could tell Penelope's parents were still shaken up.

He next moved to where the late Minister's wife was standing, a handkerchief covering her face. Only the slight tremble of her shoulders told him that Mrs. Fudge was emotional over her husband's brutal death. Judging by the autopsy Percy had been asked to attend, the man had been tortured and died a slow, painful death. Percy moved and placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder and she clutched it, doubling over in her grief. He could only offer words of sympathy as he moved on.

He saw a familiar face in Amos Diggory. The poor man must have felt overwhelmed at the communal support over the death of his son. It was taking the man a great effort to stand on two feet. He had been one of the few who had been rescued from the Atrium. Though he had been wounded by the Inferi, he stood by his wife on his cane, humbly taking everything in.

They were far humbler than they had been only a week before.

Feeling his resolve creeping back, he set his gaze upon a certain dark-haired woman talking to a blonde. He recognized them both as Gryffindors but his sights were on the brunette only. "Emma," he said. Before she could say anything, he hugged her.

Emma slowly patted his shoulder as she stepped away from him. "Hi, Percy."

"Hello," the blonde said, hugging Percy next. "I was so sorry to hear about your brother. We all loved and admired Bill."

"Thanks," Percy said in a deadened voice.

After the blonde had walked off with her family, Emma turned to Percy. "That was some speech," she said softly.

"It emulates a great man," Percy said fondly before shaking his head. "Emma…"

"What is it, Percy?"

"I… I don't think now is really the time to say this, but…"

"But…" she prompted gently.

"I am going to Bulgaria and I'm going to bring Buffy home."

Emma blinked at the resolve on Percy's face. "What? But she's… she's doing her job and she's—"

"She's not doing anything useful. There was an accident and she has been in a coma for weeks now. I don't even know if she's still alive. But I do think that whoever tried to kill her won't stop until the task is done."

Emma felt a bit tipsy as she tried to let everything sink in. "Someone wanted to kill her?"

"I'm not going to back down on this, Emma. Not while I have a choice. I lost my brother, I lost Penelope and I've lost…" His voice grew choked at the thought of his boss's death. Emma put a comforting hand on his arm. "I am going to rescue her and bring her home."

"You're sure as hell not going alone," Emma said.

"What do you mean?"

"If you're planning a rescue mission, then you're not going alone. I'm coming with you. My mother has…" Emma closed her eyes. "… had a house in the north of Germany. It belonged to her father. If she's injured, she'll need time to heal before we bring her back here."

"Then let's go," Percy said, a hint of light in his eyes once again. "Let's go rescue our friend."

x-o-o-x

I'm trying not to be too bummed here. Feedback was particularly low on the last chapter, which is sort of disheartening. I don't beg for reviews because it doesn't matter. I just hope you people are still reading this. I have big plans for the second half of this story, which begins now, including a Buffy-centric chapter, a Harry-centric chapter, the reunion (which I've been sneaking ahead to pre-write because I think it'll be my favorite chapter in this whole story) and the final battle. Some chapters will be shorter than others. This chapter was a mixed bag of the good, bad and worst.

A preview of things to come…

In the next few chapters… Buffy (as Elise) will face down her fears and come face-to-face with the dark trio in what will likely cost her life… Faith finds herself pinned between a rock and a hard place as she befriends her wayward cousin Draco and learns of a letter that was sent foretelling the future of her once-proposed life… Wesley returns to Hogwarts after his father's death and becomes a Watcher once again… Willow and Tara reappear with special guest stars, including an ensouled vampire. Who will live? Who will die? Whose good and who's evil? And will torn siblings ever be reunited again? Oh, and Buffy finally wakes up.

_Exiled_ and _And That's What it's All About_ will be updated in the next few days.


	13. The Letter

_**Note: **I had no idea which order to do these chapters in because it could go any way. I finally decided on trying this out. Did you miss Hogwarts? I did too… This is mostly a Slytherin-centric (at least we're on the Harry Potter side of things) chapter with the exception of the beginning and the end. It is also a bit shorter than the previous chapters! On a second note, I feel guilty for complaining so much last chapter. I really, really, really appreciate all of you who read… most of you have stuck with me from the beginning and I can't thank you enough. For those of you who just started reading… I hope you enjoy! _

**Other Note: **I'm sorry this took so freaking long for me to update! Work has been busy and my friends and I just threw our annual Christmas party… at my building. So I worked quite diligently this past week pulling it together and organizing it. Though exhausted now, I feel relieved it's finally over! I would feel great if I could get another chapter written and edited before Christmas, but if I can get it before we leave for New Year's, I'd be thrilled. All chapter notes aside from these as well as reviewer comments are in my profile. Read on!

_**Chapter Summary**: Faith finds herself surprisingly in place in Slytherin house despite her protests; Draco discovers that someone knew about the attack on the Ministry before it began; Faith is given a letter from her classmate, Juliet Rosier, that explains the only reason why she's still alive; Wesley returns to Hogwarts with a message for Faith and she finally finds out the truth about her sister Slayer…_

**Chapter 13**

**The Letter**

x-o-o-x

"Friendship is a plant of slow growth and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation." – George Washington

_Sixteen Years Ago_

The quill scratched on the old parchment as its bearer wrote quickly, his eyes glancing up every few seconds to the window. Rain lashed at the old window, blurring the light right outside his door. He had so much he wanted to put into writing, so much he wanted to say. But he couldn't put it all in there. It would be of little comfort to his wife and their daughter. But he still had to try.

He dipped his quill in ink and paused, listening for the Aurors. He knew they would come at him at any moment. But he had to let the others know where the girl was, he had to. Lord Voldemort may have fallen, but his will would not forever be lost. Not while the youngest Black still lived…

There was a sudden splash outside and he froze, his quill halfway to the parchment. He strained to hear what was happening but found only his thundering heartbeat. Swallowing hard, he decided against including any more and signed the note. Once he tucked it inside the parchment, he lifted a burning bit of wax and pressed it into a seal using his own family seal. To authenticate it, he removed a bandage from his hand. Using his letter opener, he split the cut open further and allowed a few drops of blood to scatter on the front of the envelope.

There were voices now. He had to hurry; this letter needed to get out through the proper channels so the girl could be located.

He had spent days in this hovel, attempting to sort out what intelligence information there was. So few of his friends remained around after the fall of Voldemort. Fewer still could be trusted: they could be working for the Ministry in order to bring him down. There was one other who knew of his assignment and he knew that the other was dead.

He took his own letter for his wife. He felt for Martha, he truly did. But things were different now. Things were desperate. He signed on for life as a Death Eater and he knew that those remaining in wait would kill him if he turned his back now. Regulus Black had paid such a price.

He heard voices now. Tying the end of his bandage, he fumbled with his supplies, making a sweeping motion to shove them into a drawer. Once the drawer was full, he moved to the fire and threw them in.

It was then he heard the first knock on his door. Evan Rosier glanced up, holding his breath. His heartbeat pounded in his chest and he swayed dizzily on the spot. A moment later, he set the drawer down and pulled the letter opener from his pocket. Holding it in his injured hand, he felt for his wand and moved to the door.

The door burst open with such force it nearly took off Evan's head. He found himself facing the same set of Aurors who had been tailing him since the night the Potters died. "YOU!" the Auror screamed, immediately brandishing his wand. Evan was faster, easily toppling the Auror down with a few, well-placed spells. The second Auror went down nearly as easily. Feeling more confident that he could manage to escape to complete his task, Evan turned to the third and froze.

Mad-Eye Moody.

This man was responsible for either killing or imprisoning so many of Evan's friends. In that moment, the hatred bubbled up inside of him.

"Give it up, Evan," Mad-Eye snarled. "It's over."

"No," Evan said, shaking his head as the rain beat down on them. "It is never over."

"You can't win," Mad-Eye said, his narrow gash of a mouth twisting in an eerie form of a sneer. "Others are coming."

Already Evan could hear the soft 'pop' of others Apparating to the scene. As his own family didn't know where he was, let alone his compatriots, Evan knew he was very alone. Knowing, realizing that his death was upon him, Evan steadied himself, grasped the letter opener and ran toward the elder Auror.

Even as the other Aurors arrived, Mad-Eye was on his back with the younger, desperate man atop him. When Evan was flung aside with a curse from another wand, the younger man smiled triumphantly at the bloody mess that remained of the Auror's face, the bloodied letter opener still in his hand.

"It ends here, Rosier!"

"No," Evan shouted, facing five Aurors with a satisfied smile. "Even if you kill me now, that won't protect the child from tomorrow."

It was just enough to let the Aurors believe that the Death Eater spoke of Harry Potter, though this particular Death Eater wasn't speaking of the Potter infant at all. His mind was on another younger girl his daughter's age, one with a great destiny ahead of her. He smiled at the thought of his letter, tucked safely inside. Hopefully someone on the inside of the Ministry loyal to their cause would find the letter and find the girl. But until that time came, he was ready to accept defeat. He had begun the process.

There was a single flash of green light. Evan Rosier died with a smile on his face. He left behind his wife and daughter. Though his end was fast, little did he know his death would serve no greater impact than the letter hand-delivered to his wife and abandoned on top of her mantelpiece for the next decade and a half.

x-o-x

_Slytherin__House – Present Day_

Faith moved through the dungeons, her eyes on a door at the end of the hall. When she pushed it open, she was surprised to see it was vacant. Normally at this time of the morning her classmates would be hurrying to get ready. But it seemed they were either too afraid or too disgusted to face her. This didn't really matter to her. She was just here for some stupid reason like protection or whatever. In fact, she was happy to have the girl's bathroom to herself. It gave her more time to prepare to dive under a stream of normally cold water.

After a rather cool shower, Faith dressed quickly, shoving her damp locks from her face as she hopped around the bathroom, tugging on her boots. Her Hogwarts uniform didn't serve her as well as it served others, obviously. She added her own touches in a way only she could. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she felt she had come straight out of _Cruel Intentions. _Moments later, though, she could unbutton the top two and bottom two buttons, loosen her tie, toss her hair, roll her skirt up a mere inch or two… anything to make her feel normal.

"You're not supposed to do that."

Faith hid a smirk as she turned to face one of her new roommates. The girl was small-boned and brassy with dark hair and a cold expression with an oddly squashed face and an attitude that not even Cordelia could outdo. "I'm just trying to feel normal, yo," she said, placing her hand on her chest and enjoying the sudden sway of the looser material. "If you want to look like you're on your way to the nunnery, that's your choice."

"They'll throw you out for this," the girl said in her annoying tone, tapping her long, red nails against her hips.

"I really don't think so," Faith said sweetly, flashing the girl her brightest smile. "I may not have a name like a constellation or sound as fruity as a flower, but I can still hold my own weight."

"Because you're a _Black?_" the girl asked, arching one fine eyebrow and smirking. "Not even Snape will accept that sort of attitude."

"No?" Faith asked, tossing her damp hair over her shoulder and giving herself one last triumphant glance in her mirror. "Watch me."

It was bad enough that Harry had to see her each day. The fact she was in a Slytherin uniform was torture. Dumbledore wouldn't explain anything, saying the story was Faith's to tell when she was ready to tell it. Instead he walked the same hallways, went to the same classes, ate in the same dining hall… all for the name of something.

At first, Faith wasn't really trying to fit in. She walked alone, ate alone, sat in class alone and didn't really talk to anyone – save Malfoy. Harry found this somewhat disturbing until he realized the common thread they shared was blood. Soon the other Slytherins seemed to flock to her, rather floored by her brassy style. Harry could hardly resist a smile when he saw Faith walking to class with that pout and those smoldering eyes. It was almost amusing watching the Slytherin girls flock.

As far as he knew, the only class he had with her was Defense Against the Dark Arts. In most of those classes, she would hold her tongue, file her nails, shine her boots or do whatever she wanted. Harry had a sneaky suspicion that her Head of House must have said something to her because she soon started bringing a book to class and was soon volunteering answers to questions. She kept her Marked arm hidden underneath her sleeve and offered no explanations as to her powers when asked by curious students from other houses. Slytherins said nothing as expected – they seemed to know that she was well within her right to be in their house as long as she carried the Dark Mark.

Ron never said anything to her but whenever their eyes locked he would turn oddly red and start spluttering. Hermione rarely spoke at all anymore, even in class. Her days of being an insufferable know-it-all and letting others see that side of her were long past. She studied alone under the pretense that her N.E.W.T. exams warranted that much concentration. Ron kept saying that Harry was to blame for Hermione detaching herself from reality. Maybe he was… but it was his choice to protect her. He couldn't love her the way she wanted him to.

Not when he was very much enamored with someone else.

It was hard to be in the same room with her and not want to feel her eyes on him. He longed to speak with her, to learn of her intentions but so far she had said nothing. That had been well over a month ago. Instead she walked with her unbuttoned blouse, her tousled hair and her infamous walk, leaving behind a trail of stares and students shaking their heads at the obscenity of it all. Had Harry not completely despised all things Slytherin, he would have respected that about her. But he honestly didn't know what she was trying to pull.

"Still no news on your sister, mate?" Ron asked one evening as he and Hermione moved into the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione was carrying a stack of books and wouldn't meet Harry's eyes as she sat down on the other side of Ron.

"None," Harry said sadly, staring morosely at his plate.

"You'll hear something soon," Ron said in a reassuring voice as he started piling his plate high with dinner. "Right, Hermione?"

"Yes," she said vacantly, staring intently at her book. "We'll hear about her soon."

"After all, Percy left a few weeks ago," Ron said, grabbing his fork with gusto and shrugging. "According to Mum, he said he was going to rescue her."

"I hope they found her," Harry said softly.

"They will," Ron replied.

Harry shrugged and continued eating, his mind wandering. When it wasn't on Faith, his classes, the looming N.E.W.T.-level exams and his upcoming battle with Voldemort, it was on Buffy. His sister had been missing for months now. What little news he had learned was that Buffy had been shot and poisoned and hovered near death. It was also rumored that there was a traitor in her vampire hunting group that shot her.

He was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the footsteps approach of Professor McGonagall until she reached his part of the table. "Potter," she said in a low, urgent voice.

Harry dropped his spoon and turned to face his own Head of House. "Yes, Professor?"

"Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office immediately," she said, twisting her hands. Her anxiety was such that Ron immediately set his fork down and Hermione glanced up from her book. "There's been another attack…"

x-o-x

Though the snow was falling gently inside, the dungeons where the Potions classroom was felt warm with its roaring fire and the glass of firewhiskey sitting at his side. Professor Snape idly ran his thumb around the rim of the glass, deep in thought as he read through the letters received that morning from his old friends. A moment later he paused to sip from his drink.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Ah, yes, Draco, come in," Snape said, getting to his feet as the younger boy walked in. Despite the fact he lacked certain maturity, Draco had aged gracefully these past seven years. "I wanted to discuss your tutorials with Ms. Black."

Draco snorted under his breath and scowled. "You might want to sit down, sir, as we'll be here all night."

Snape offered him a seat before taking his own, reaching for another glass. "Fancy a drink?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape poured him a whiskey and handed it over to his student. "Now…"

Draco took a small sip of firewhiskey and rolled his eyes. "Faith Black, sir, has been nothing but a pain in my arse since she first arrived here last month."

"Yes, well, we had little choice when she came to us," Snape replied dryly, swirling his drink around in his glass. "But I asked you about your tutoring Ms. Black. I didn't ask for your personal opinion."

"Of course, sir," Draco replied heavily. "The truth is, she has no feel for magic. Plainly, she's a squib. She has absolutely no skills with or without a wand. She may be Delita Black, but her skills are sorely lacking."

"I see…" Snape said in his softest voice.

"I can't help but compare her to Buffy, sir," Draco said, a bittersweet, fond look on his face. "Buffy was so eager and willing to learn. She looked forward to our tutoring sessions and she actually put forth an effort to learning what she needed to. Faith doesn't exactly want to learn and considers this school a waste of her time."

"Hmm…"

Draco barely noticed the look on his Head of House's face as he continued on. "But the truth is, sir, she's family. I… I don't have much of a family."

Snape seemed to shake himself out of his reverie and fixed a stern look upon Draco. "Is that any way to speak about your father, boy?" he asked in a calm voice, though the corners of his lips twitched maliciously.

"My… my father?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Yes, Lucius… we've been friends for quite some time," Snape said coolly, his eyes fixed on the panic-stricken eyes of the younger Malfoy. "Don't look so shocked, Draco. Your father has kept me well-informed of the comings and goings of certain members of the secret club." His eyes widened and his smirk grew. "It was how I knew about the attack on the park tonight."

Draco felt stunned, as though he was suddenly feeling the affects of a liter of whiskey. "What?" he asked.

"Never fear, Draco, I knew he wouldn't have the smarts to tell his own son. He knows that you've never sided with the Mudbloods and Muggles before…"

"How is this…?" Draco was feeling dizzy now. A hand moved to hold his head as he swayed visibly in his chair. "Bloody hell…"

"I would think very carefully about where my allegiances lay, Draco," Snape said, setting down his glass with a thud. He was no longer smirking. His eyes were cold and distant. Draco suddenly felt afraid. "It seems your cousin has already chosen her side."

This struck Draco as strange; so much so that he burst into fits of laughter. "Are you kidding me?" he wheezed, holding his side. "Do you realize what there is between her and Potter?"

A shadow seemed to pass Snape's face as he met Draco's gaze directly. "I don't think that anything between them could be a threat," he said coyly, draining the glass.

"Really?" Draco asked sarcastically. "Because it seems to me that—"

"She is a Death Eater," Snape replied, stopping Draco cold. "He's the hero. No matter what generation we live in, something like that just isn't possible. In the end, she'll kill him or he will be forced to kill her."

"Doesn't exactly sound like a happy ending," Draco murmured. Despite the fact Potter was his archenemy, he still pitied his cousin. He knew she was keeping her distance from Potter, but it would only hold for so long. He knew that she had feelings for him. She all but admitted it the same night that he let her into the Slytherin common room.

"But they're young and kids tend to do foolish things when they're young," Snape said drolly, his smirk returning as he snatched what remained of his bottle of firewhiskey.

"Does that really justify the murder of innocent children?" Draco asked softly. He had heard about the attack from dinner that night. It sickened him to know that his father had been partially responsible for such an attack. But something else was bothering him, too. If his father was still in contact with Professor Snape, had he known about the attack on the Ministry of Magic before it happened?

"This is the world, Draco," Snape said, pouring the rest of his whiskey into his glass and lifting it as a salute. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people."

"Like those people at the Ministry?" Draco dared to ask. "What about them?"

Snape's eyes darkened as he stared out at the snow swirling past his window. "Sometimes we just have to take it."

"But you knew…" Draco worked hard to keep the accusatory note out of his voice, even as Snape sipped at his drink. "You knew about the attack on the Ministry and you said _nothing!_"

Snape didn't answer him. He just kept sipping his drink, avoiding his gaze.

"I can't do this anymore," Draco said, his head buried in his hands. "I can't sit around and watch people die just because my father wants them to. I can't live with the price of that blood. The moment the Aurors find him, he's a dead man."

Professor Snape drained his drink and set his glass on his desk.

"I can't believe you didn't go to Dumbledore. I can't believe you knew and you didn't tell anyone," Draco moaned.

Snape stood up, his palms pressing flat onto his desk. "Leave me."

Draco swallowed hard and stood up, meeting his Professor's gaze bravely. With a small nod, Draco left the Potions classroom.

A moment later, Snape flung his hand across his desk, sending his drink glass shattering into the wall.

x-o-x

Even as the clock chimed midnight, Faith lay on her back, staring at the shadows moving the entire length of their room. She twirled her dagger in her hands, longing to be anywhere but here. Even outside patrolling the Forest would be more fun than lounging around with her stupid roommates. Even though they seemed to hang around her more than what she found tolerable, they were sort of nice to have around. Girls would always be girls in her opinion.

It was times like these that almost made her want to do her homework.

A sudden shadow fell across her bed curtains. Slipping the dagger under her blankets, she turned to the figure parting the curtains.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah," Faith said, sitting up a bit.

"I've been working up the courage to come over here all night. I haven't seen you in the Common Room at all."

"That's because your so-called roomies stare at me like I'm some kind of god," Faith murmured. "I don't belong here."

"You… you do," the girl said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Glancing at the other girls who were all sleeping, she turned back to Faith. "They admire you. They're afraid of you. And they probably talk about you behind your back."

"Makes me feel better," Faith said edgily, dropping dramatically onto her pillows. "Did you come here for a reason…"

"Juliet. My name is Juliet. I know we met when you first got here, but I know you don't remember my name."

Faith scoffed and crossed her legs, lacing her fingers behind her head. "Sure didn't."

"Last year, when I was home for summer holidays, I told my mum about you. And she remembered something. Then she gave me this." She pulled a letter out of her bag and set it on the bed in between them. "It was written by my father before he died."

"Your father…"

"He was one of them… a Death Eater." She spoke the word with such contempt Faith winced. "Mum doesn't talk about him much. She remarried when I was six. She tells me to call him father, but I wouldn't be in Slytherin if _he_ wasn't my father. She's kept this letter for so long that she almost forgot what it was. But it's here now. And it belongs to you." She set the envelope on the bed between them.

Faith's hand inched towards the envelope before freezing. "Have you read it?"

"My mum did… once. She said that this letter is yours. It was written… _for _you. To you. My father wrote it to you."

"Thanks," Faith said, reaching for the letter. It was then she noticed the girl. She was the one in the entire room Faith could tolerate and maybe that's because she never said more than two words to Faith before. But now that she put her mind to it, she remembered the girl. Juliet Rosier.

"I'll leave you be," Juliet said, brushing her dark hair off her forehead as she stood up. "Have a good night, Faith."

"Yeah," Faith echoed as her bed curtains swished shut. She sat up, staring hard at the letter. Juliet's father had written this for her? Why? What could it possibly say?

Without further thought, she snatched the letter up and used her dagger to slice the envelope open. She pulled out two pages from the envelope, blinking in surprise at the few drops of blood on the edge of the parchment. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the letter, smoothed it out on her legs and began to read.

Minutes later, she dropped the letter into her lap.

Taking a deep breath, she struggled to control the rage that washed over her in waves. A sudden need to kill something overwhelmed her. Ignoring her instincts to stay where she belonged, she flung herself onto the floor and out into the corridors. Something had to die. Now.

Her resolve was all but finished when she saw a single person sitting on one of the long, green leather sofas against the wall. The figure had a head of platinum-blonde hair that was hunched over, his arms clasped tightly around his abdomen. "Draco?" she asked quietly.

"I trusted him," Draco muttered, not really knowing who was standing there and, for the moment, not really caring. "He… he didn't say anything."

"Who didn't, Draco?" Faith asked, moving to her cousin with a wary expression. Usually when Draco acted like this, it was because something had happened to his father or to the relatives of his so-called friends. A moment later, he looked up at her. Faith blinked, startled by the lack of color in Draco's normally pale face. His eyes were red-rimmed as though he'd been crying. There were half-moon shaped bruises under his eyes, giving him a gaunt, lifeless pallor. When he saw Faith, his eyes drooped and he lifted his hands to cover his face.

"Don't look at me."

"Why shouldn't I look at you?" Faith asked, placing her hands on her hips. "You're the only person in this house I can even look at."

"You don't want to look at me."

"Try and stop me."

Draco looked back up at her, his silvery eyes shining with tears of anger and frustration. "Go away. Please, go away."

"Talk to me, Draco. What happened to you? Is it your father?"

Draco shook his head, too disgusted with his own blood for the first time in his life to attempt a defense of his father. He felt her shadow cross over his. The moment he saw her right arm reach out to touch him, he gasped and moved away from her. It was then she reached out with both hands and grasped his shoulders, the letter tumbling to the floor.

"Stop, Draco. Don't do this to yourself."

He forced himself to look up into her eyes. Her fingers were biting into his flesh, but he made no attempts to push her away. There was genuine concern in her dark eyes. For the first time that evening, relief flooded through him like a cold wave of water and he felt himself simmer with something new… was it hope? He couldn't tell anymore. He could never tell.

"Faith," he murmured, standing up and towering over her. She released him and, for a moment, he was disappointed. He had wanted to feel her warmth. He wanted to feel that connection.

He wanted to feel safe when he was by her.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone firmer. When he met her eyes again, the concern had changed. He saw a shadow pass her eyes and for a moment realized that they had both been condemned to this same camp. "Tell me."

"I can't," he said sadly. Though he desperately wanted to confide in her, he knew that his father would consider him a blood traitor for even commiserating with a squib, even if she was marked on their side. He wanted to laugh at himself… their side. The side that had caused so much pain and damage. Their side had been working so hard to undercut the influence Harry Potter had over the Wizarding world. He welcomed them to try. Even if Faith was marked, he knew her allegiance lay with Buffy Summers. The only question was where Buffy's allegiance truly was.

Faith took a deep breath and moved away from him. "If you want to sit in the dark and cry like a baby, don't let me stop you," she said harshly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said darkly.

"Why won't you tell me what's making you so angry?" she asked, rounding on him. He saw something in her eyes that reminded him of his mother for some odd reason. There was a chill hidden in their depths that sent chilling waves racing down his spine.

"It has nothing to do with you!" he spat, hating himself for lying to her. "The world doesn't revolve around the Slayers."

Her eyes narrowed as she stormed at him, her finger lifting up and poking in him in the chest so roughly he fell back onto the couch. "You really think you know what a Slayer is, Drake? Do you think you know what powers we hold? I may not be able to hold my own in magic, but I've got strength you couldn't begin to imagine." A horrible smirk now lit her face up and felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. "You think the darkness wants us for our hotness?"

No matter how much he wanted to defend Buffy, there was something in Faith's eyes that made his lips seal and he dropped his gaze, staring instead at the letter unfolded at Faith's feet. "Like you're really on our side," Draco scoffed.

Faith stared at the letter for a moment, watching as Draco reached for it. She bent down and snatched it from him, holding it out of his reach. "It doesn't belong to you!" she spat out.

The cousins glared at one another for a moment as Faith shoved the letter back in its envelope before stuffing it in the backside of her shiny pants. A moment later, she dropped on the couch next to him. "Parents suck, don't they?" she asked, her tone of voice completely different from the dark echo he had heard just moments before.

"Join the club," he muttered, folding his arms and glaring in an opposite direction. "I… I need to get out of her for awhile."

"Where are you going to go?" Faith asked humorlessly. "It's almost midnight. You'll be caught out-of-bounds for sure. I don't want you to get in trouble."

Draco leapt to his feet, rising to his full height. "I can take care of myself."

"Can you?" she asked lightly, eyeing him apprehensively.

"Maybe," Draco replied in a low voice. "Of course I know how to take care of myself."

"It'd be hard to jinx someone with a dagger in your gut," Faith mused.

"So says you," Draco muttered. "Why do you always have to be so morbid?"

"Why do you always have to be a stuck-up Daddy's boy?" Faith retorted.

Draco paused for a moment on his way out the portrait hole, turning only to look at Faith in passing as he quietly replied, "Maybe I'm not like him as much as you'd like to think."

x-o-x

It had been a long night for Harry. After Quidditch practice at Ron's request, the two had made their way through the chilling mist to Gryffindor Tower. Ginny had accompanied them, not saying much of anything. She had been so quiet since the news had come of Bill's death. Ron said that Ginny had always favored Bill above the rest of her brothers and Harry no longer had the heart to argue. Knowing that there had always been a connection between them, he asked her to walk with him for a while. Though it was after nine, he was still Head Boy and had the authority to pull a Prefect out, especially when that Prefect was the little sister of his best friend.

Ginny hadn't said much during their first walk through the seventh floor corridors. After reaching the kitchens for a bowl of ice cream, which Buffy had always said was comfort food, Ginny started to open up a bit.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" she asked, staring at the concoction she had managed to make up. Harry, feeling his stomach clench, stared at the four different blends of ice cream, chocolate, cherry and butterscotch sauce with heaps of whipped cream and several cherries atop the entire mess. And yet Ginny had grabbed a spoon and started on the buttery brittle crunch ice cream.

"Mmm," Harry murmured, staring disgustedly at the ice cream. "I mean, yeah, it is horrible."

"Harry," Ginny said, swallowing her ice cream, "have you been reading the Prophet for the past few days?"

"Of course I have," he said defensively; Ginny had watched him read it that morning.

"People are losing hope," she said softly. "Some people don't think that we're ever going to get through this. They think the Ministry and Hogwarts will fall into Voldemort's hands and that you and Dumbledore are going to die."

"The only way Dumbledore is going to die is if he ever gives up control of this school," Harry argued. "And that will never happen."

Ginny watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to her ice cream. "He'd die for you."

"The thing is, people don't know what to believe anymore. There isn't a family in Britain that hasn't been affected by the war. Dementors are now coming out and breeding. All of those bodies from these massacres are being used as Inferi. The Death Eaters are growing. And they know that two Slayers have been called to their ranks."

"But they wouldn't—" Harry began.

"Not intentionally, maybe," Ginny said, giving him a sad smile as she licked a bit of chocolate sauce off the edge of her hand. "I mean, I know Buffy. She would never do anything to hurt you like that unless it was against her will."

"I know very well what she did," Harry said in a tired voice.

"But Faith?" She watched as Harry's head snapped to look back at her and saw his eyes darken ominously. "You know why she's here, Harry. This school has the strongest protection because you're here. She needs the protection half as much as you."

"Faith wouldn't do anything to hurt me either."

"Neither of them would, but we all know that Voldemort marked them. Because of what they are, they will have no choice but to follow him when he calls or else they're going to die. Could you really stand to lose either one of them?"

Harry felt his heart tighten and thought of watching his sister or his friend die. He let out a slow breath.

"I love Buffy, Harry. She's my friend. And what the Ministry put her through because of what she did… she didn't deserve everything she got, but she wanted to pay for it. Maybe she's paying for it in Bulgaria."

"Right," Harry scoffed. "By being in a coma, she's really atoning for a lot."

Ginny rolled her eyes before digging into her vanilla bean ice cream. "People need a hero, Harry. They need someone to believe in. They need to believe they're safe, which the Ministry can't promise them. Or they need to feel like they have a chance, which the Ministry can't give them. But you can."

Harry, recalling the Prophesy, felt sickened. _Neither can live while the other survives…_

"You want me to go to active war against Voldemort?" he asked humorlessly. "That'd be swell! Can you imagine me going up against Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Dementors, Inferi and Giants? If I lasted thirty seconds, I'd be happy."

"I never said you were going to go alone," Ginny said, her voice gaining strength. Harry blinked and watched the feverish glow in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the temperature of her dinner. "We need to be ready, Harry. Do you remember the DA?"

"How could I forget it?" Harry replied. He hadn't yet thought of starting it up again this year, mainly because things were as strained as they were.

"You've been preparing us for something, Harry. You were teaching us how to fight. You were teaching us what we would need to know—"

"What?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing where she was going with this. "Do you really think I would let _you _face Death Eaters?"

"Why not?" Ginny barked, glaring at Harry disdainfully. "Like I haven't fought by your side before!"

"That was different," Harry said in a low voice. "That was when I thought Sirius had been captured by Voldemort and I thought he was going to die. Now that Voldemort is back out and openly fighting us, the last thing we need is for—"

"Underage wizards to fight for their lives?" Ginny asked lightly. "Harry, we are going to lose this war unless someone steps up. Buffy can't do it because she's in Bulgaria and she's hurt. The Ministry is in pieces. The one person who can run the Ministry ran off to save your sister. You are our only hope."

Harry swallowed hard as his thoughts raced through his head. "What would you have me do?"

"I think the time has come for you to tell the Dark Side that we're not giving up without a fight." There was that light in Ginny's face again.

"Look, I know you lost your brother—"

"This has nothing to do with Bill," Ginny said strongly. "This has to do with _you,_ Harry. People are losing faith in your being a so-called 'chosen one'. I think the time has come for you to say that you're going to do something about it. And I think it'd be fair to say Hogwarts will stand behind you." She reached over and grasped Harry's hand suddenly, who jumped as her chilled hand wrapped around his. "Your friends will stand behind you. We might not have super Slayer strength, but you did teach us how to fight. We won't forget you helping us and in your hour of need, we will be there to help you."

Harry felt his eyes soften at her sudden show of loyalty. "Ginny, I'm—"

"Touched? Humbled?" she asked, turning back to her ice cream. "I've been wanting to say that for a long time," she added quietly.

"Thanks for that," he said, reaching over to hold her free hand. She squeezed his hand, smiling genuinely at him. "I'm really quite lucky to have someone like you as a friend."

Ginny's smiled tightened as she turned back to her ice cream before pushing it away. "If there's one thing your sister taught me, its kicking ass is comfort food."

"I'm sorry I couldn't save your brother."

"He knew what he was doing," Ginny replied. "And Emma Vance sent Mum and Dad a letter from Germany last week explaining what had happened. Bill died a hero. I don't think he'd ever go any other way."

Harry pushed open the kitchen door and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny at his side. They were passing the Entrance Hall when he realized someone was standing there. A single shadow drifted along the back wall as tails of a set of robes swished out of sight. "I'll deal with him if you want to take care of the visitor," Ginny whispered into his shoulder. Harry nodded and Ginny disappeared. Stepping into the light, Harry squinted to see the figure pacing back and forth before he finally realized Harry was standing there looking at him.

"Good Lord, you gave me a fright," the man said, pressing a hand to his chest. Harry found himself looking into a familiar face with sharp blue eyes and a tired, war-weary look about him.

"I know you," Harry said slowly, hoping the man would introduce himself.

"I am Wesley Windham-Pryce," the man said, taking a few steps forward to shake Harry's hand. "And you are—"

"Harry Potter."

Wesley's eyes did the flick up to his scar before lowering to meet Harry's gaze. "You're Buffy's brother."

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Then you are aware of what has happened to her?" Wesley asked, straightening his necktie and shuffling his luggage. It was then Harry realized the man was holding a suitcase and gave him a questioning look.

"I know what happened to her," Harry replied. "Or, I know that something happened to her."

"Very well," Wesley said, glancing around the Entrance Hall impressively. "My father taught here last year."

"Really?" Harry asked, remembering Lincoln Windham-Pryce and shuddering. "I had him. He was a good teacher."

"Yes, yes," Wesley said, looking down another dark corridor before taking a step towards it. "I was wondering if you might show me to your Headmaster's office."

"It's midnight," Harry said, frowning at the clock above the four pillars counting the stones each class had earned all the while positioning himself between the corridor and the man. "He's likely sleeping."

"He sent for me," Wesley replied earnestly. "He called St. Mungo's and I came as soon as I was able."

"You came alone?" Harry asked sharply.

"Surely not, dear boy," Wesley said, frowning at Harry as though he were a troublesome child. "I had an Auror with me. I left her at the gate. I believe your gatekeeper let me in. He came into the castle and went that way, I believe," he added, gesturing down a dark corridor. Again he took a step towards the corridor and again Harry stepped in front of him. "Why are you refusing me entrance?"

"Because if the Headmaster had called for you, surely he must be prepared to meet you."

"And indeed he is," came an amused voice as Professor Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows. "Wesley, welcome to Hogwarts. I am pleased that you could arrive at this late hour. Please, my office is this way." As Wesley departed down the darkened corridor, Professor Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Harry, it is late and I am certain that you would care to sleep. To Gryffindor Tower, please."

As Harry walked in the opposite direction towards the moving staircases, he heard their conversation from the corridors.

"Are you certain she still doesn't know?" Wesley asked in a worried voice.

"From what she would say, she does not," Dumbledore was saying in an apologetic tone. "I appreciate you being the one to tell her…"

Their conversation muted as Harry continued to walk. Forgetting entirely that Ginny was still out, he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, nearly kicking himself with the realization that Faith Landing still didn't know what had happened to her sister Slayer.

x-o-x

Ginny had gone running down the darkened corridor only to find Malfoy standing in front of a portrait with his hands in the air. Ginny glared at him for one moment before she turned to stomp away.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," he called after her. "I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"I just can't believe I risked detention to tell _you _off," she snidely remarked, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him with such contempt he winced, a small flush creeping up his neck. This was the Ginny Weasley he knew and despised – the one who was so full of herself and so deeply entrenched in her precious Potter's inner circle it disgusted him.

"I risked detention to come down here," Draco smirked. "I just fancied a walk in the moonlight."

"How about fancying a walk off the Astronomy Tower?" Ginny replied coldly. "I'm sure a seven-story tumble would tame that look of yours."

"You're not very friendly," Draco said in a sing-song voice, enjoying the red flush that crept up her neck and into her face, making her look rather like a tomato.

"I'm not friendly?" she snapped, placing a hand at her neck. "At least I'm not skulking around like a vampire. Were you spying on us?"

"You mean you and Prince Potter?" Draco replied as Ginny's eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. "I'd probably fall asleep. _Oh Harry,_" he said, mimicking a breathy, higher-pitched voice quite unlike Ginny's. "_I love you so. Will you marry me?_"

"You're disgusting, Malfoy," Ginny hissed.

"At least it's a step above disappointing," Draco replied with his usual sneer. "Prince Potter is so head-over-heels for Black that he couldn't even hold onto Granger. I don't know why you figure wasting your time on, of all people, _him._"

Her eyes narrowed as she stormed past him, making her way back to Gryffindor Tower. Smirking, Draco Malfoy made his way back to the Slytherin common room which, thankfully, was empty of all people, including his annoying cousin.

x-o-x

It was just breaking dawn when Faith crept into the Owlery. Hundreds of owls fluttered above her, but her eyes were searching for one in particular. Though she didn't own one, she knew which one she wanted to use. She finally spotted the one she was looking for and called out to him.

The owl fluttered down and kept hopping around despite the fact she was trying to attach a letter to his leg. The stupid minute owl, she thought to herself. "Pigwidgeon, stay _still_," she hissed, poking Ron's owl to stay still. It finally stalled long enough for her to attach the letter to its leg and tell him it was for Sirius before the owl hooted and hobbled out the window.

Now she would wait for him to get back to her. After she had read the letter a few times, she had sent it to Sirius with another letter explaining her disgust at her parents and their love for the Pure-bloods. Sure, being pureblooded apparently gave her some sort of power, but it was never anything she had asked for.

She made to leave the Owlery, but found a figure standing just outside, staring over the grounds. At hearing her move around behind him, the figure turned and she stared in surprise at her former Watcher. "Wesley," she murmured.

"Hello, Faith," he said. She noticed his hands were twisting and glanced at him questioningly. "You're up early."

"I just sent a letter off to my brother," Faith replied. "I got a letter of my own last night," she said in response to his confused look. "Some girl in my room gave it to me, said her father wrote it to me before I was born. It proves what great assholes my parents were, if it helps any."

"Faith…"

"I mean, if you look at my cousin and I seriously think you should – he can be a dead ringer for Spike – his parents suck almost as badly as mine do. I guess that's why Pureblood families are just so nice."

"Faith…"

"If only Buffy was here. She knows how much these people piss you off. Her parents were good because I've seen them before in my dreams and all. But mine? Ha! They made my drug addict bitch of a mother look like a saint…"

"Faith, there is something I need to tell you," Wesley said, cutting into her tirade. "This is about Buffy."

At seeing the worried expression on his face, the slight twist of his lips and his hands which wouldn't stop fidgeting, she knew instantly that something had happened to her sister Slayer. What surprised her was that she hadn't been able to sense it. "What happened to her?"

x-o-x

"Come on in, Potter."

Elise opened the door and shut it quietly behind her, glancing at the stern-looking woman sitting behind the desk. A pair of stern green eyes behind square spectacles watched as the girl stood near the doorway. "Sit. I'm glad you came in. It'll give us the chance to talk."

"Talk?" Elise asked, sitting in the chair near the Sergeant's desk.

"You requested extra patrols in your neighborhood," Sergeant McGonagall said, opening a file folder and flipping through some pages. "Do you feel like you're in danger?"

Elise held her tongue, not knowing what to say. She didn't know what the Sergeant knew about her.

"You've taken a great risk with your life, Elise."

Elise eyed her warily. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm taking this risk. I'm being approached and blamed by total strangers for things I don't know about."

"They're not strangers. This is your job, Potter."

"My… my job?"

Sergeant McGonagall closed the folder and sighed, glancing up at the distraught girl. "You were assigned to infiltrate that group. You knew the risks. You knew of their power, of their rather violent tendencies. But you did something foolish."

"Sirius could have died," Elise whispered.

"Do you remember what I said when you were first put on this assignment?"

"Not really," Elise said apologetically.

"When you work with this type of agency, you have no heart. You have no soul, no voice, no human weakness. You cannot let them see your fear. You can't let them into your life like that. That's not how it works."

Elise nodded, frowning and pressing her hand to her forehead. "He's my father's best friend."

"He was out of line. That was his shot. He should have been hit. You got emotional and you got in the way. You're lucky you weren't killed… or worse."

"No, they just put me in a coma for what… five months?"

"They are willing to let you work with them."

Elise exhaled and shook her head. "I can't work with them. I don't even know what I'm working with!"

"Criminal masterminds, financial wonders and they have the intellectual backing to go up against any government, including ours. They expose every corruption, seal every deal and plant discord in every heart. Have I explained myself enough to you yet?"

Elise could barely register what the woman was saying, much less figure out what to say. "You're the boss."

"And as your supervising Sergeant I would rather not have to order you to take on this mission. We have spent a great deal on your training."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Sergeant McGonagall asked archly, rising up and planting her hands on her hips. "You have passed through your probation this quickly because you were willing to turn yourself off to do your job. I expect you to do the same again."

"They… they threatened him. They threatened my family."

Sergeant McGonagall sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I can't protect them."

"Who said it was your responsibility?"

Elise glanced up in concern. "Because… I, well…"

"Your parents are also on this force, right?" the Sergeant asked coolly. "And is your fiancée not surrounded by bodyguards? I assure you, you were picked for this assignment because of how well those you love are protected. Now… you have had a few weeks to recuperate. I suggest taking another to get your feet together. I'm putting you back on the streets as of tomorrow night."

Elise let out a tiny whimper. "So soon?"

"You are ready, Potter. The longer you're off, the harder it is to get back. Those of us who have been here long enough know about it."

"Tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow night, nineteen hundred, be here. I'll put you on your father's unit for a few days, see how well that goes. If all goes well, you'll be back on day patrol in a week."

"Right."

Sergeant McGonagall took in the dazed look on the younger woman's face. But Elise was suddenly realizing why she had pushed all of her friends away for so long. She wanted to protect them. Her parents were protected well enough as they could look after themselves. Cedric was well protected as was his family. But her friends were open, vulnerable.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," Elise said at last, getting to her feet and giving the Sergeant a half-hearted salute. "Thank you, Sergeant."

"This is the right choice," Sergeant McGonagall said, sitting down even after the Potter girl left. "This has to be the right choice."

x-o-o-x

In the next chapter… Buffy (as Elise) continues to cope with the choices she has made in her life; Willow and Tara reappear with a message of their own; Faith continues to deal with the aftermath of the choices the parents she never knew made; Harry has his own problems when he realizes what the final battle will come down to. In two chapters…Elise's last chapter.


	14. What You Leave Behind

_**Note: **This chapter was one of the more difficult ones to write as there are a lot of characters in this one and a lot going on concerning two in particular. When I look at how much story is left to tell, this chapter has basically become a dumping ground for information. We jump ahead **another **few weeks as characters continue to evolve… together. There are still a few things I'm trying to get out, one of which was quite a surprise to even me. _

_**Chapter Summary**: The fate of Rupert Giles is learned as well as the outcome of his battle with Kristofer… Faith reveals what was really written in her letter from Evan Rosier… Harry begins to process what was told to him in the last chapter and acts on it… Wesley continues training Faith knowing that she still has a long way to go… and Willow returns with a message for Harry…_

**Chapter 14**

**What You Leave Behind**

x-o-o-x

So say it loud and let it ring. We are all a part of everything

The future, present and the past.

Fly on proud bird. You're free at last.

- Charlie Daniels

x-o-o-x

"Do you realize it'll be Christmas in just a few weeks?"

Willow glanced up from her thick psychology text and smiled at the figure standing at her window, staring at the tiny flakes swirling by the window. "The time has gone by so quickly, I'd almost forgotten," she said softly, stretching her arms over her head and yawning. "That means finals, parties…"

"Christmas carols, hot chocolate, cookies…"

Willow's smile faded and took on a nostalgic look as she removed the book from her lap and set it aside, getting to her feet. "I guess I miss the American-style Christmas celebration. Except the fact that I'm, you know, Jewish."

"It was better than trying to convince your mates why you celebrate Thanksgiving," Tara smirked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she sat on the rocking chair jammed into Willow's tiny room. "And I did offer to make you your very own dradle." Willow snickered as she drew her shades closed before turning back to Tara.

"I don't think they minded it much," Willow admitted. "I mean, gobs of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes…"

"I'm a cranberry girl myself," Tara replied. "You can only have too many—" Her voice was cut off as there was a sharp rap on the door before it creaked open.

"Wil? You in here?"

"I'm here," Willow said, maneuvering herself between her furniture as she saw one of the girls that lived down the hall hovering in her doorway. "What's up?"

"There's someone on the phone asking for you. He says his name is Angel."

Willow's eyes widened before her composure took over. As her suitemate left her room, she glanced at Tara, who looked surprised. Since they had lived in the same building, they had become quite good friends. Willow had shared most of her life in Sunnydale and beyond, even including that one of her best friends was into the witch-y stuff, too. She watched as Willow disappeared. She returned a few minutes frowning.

"Willow, what is it?" Tara asked, standing up.

"I told you about Angel, right?" she asked lightly. Tara nodded. "Oh. He's here."

"Here as in England here?"

"Here as in Oxford here," Willow sighed, sitting in her armchair and reaching for her book.

"What's wrong with that?" Tara asked, puzzled as to why Willow looked so concerned. "I thought you liked visits from old friends."

"Angel seems to bring the bad with the good," Willow replied, staring at her book for a few seconds before glancing up at Tara. "He… he said it had to do with Harry. After… after what happened to Buffy, I don't know if I can…"

"Oh," Tara said, glancing down. "I… I see what you mean. But he's your friend too, right?"

"He tried to kill me once," Willow replied.

"With the whole not-having-a-soul thing?" Tara asked, recalling what Willow had told her of Angelus.

"Yeah," Willow murmured. "I'm just worried that he'll lose it again when he hears about what happened to Buffy. And it's like we haven't gotten any news since."

"No, it isn't," Tara replied, shuffling through a stack of papers in a small basket next to the rocker. "We kept getting updates too from Harry's friend, right?"

"Actually, I think they're from Faith," Willow replied, taking one of the letters Tara had found and scanning it. "From what I was told, he and Faith aren't exactly on speaking terms. There's been… complications is the best word I can come up with."

"Because of the tattoo?"

"That's part of it," Willow surmised, leaning closer to Tara as heavy footfalls sounded down the corridors. "I think it has something to do with forbidden love."

Tara smirked as a knock sounded on the heavy door. "I think I know something about that." Her eyes flickered to the door. "Is that him?"

"Yes," Willow replied, getting to her feet with a nervous chuckle. "I really don't want to tell him about Buffy."

"Then don't," Tara said, reaching over and taking Willow's arm. "Find out what he has for Harry and we'll take it from there."

Willow gave Tara a tentative smile, strode across the room and pulled open the door.

x-o-x

Emma Vance wrapped a thick blanket around herself as she stared at the tiny snowflakes swirling outside the door to her parents' summer home. As far as the eye could see was painted a picturesque white, the conifers decorated like a postcard. She breathed in deeply, as though to inhale the scent of winter from behind the heavy pane of glass. Hearing a small hiss in the fireplace behind her, she let the curtains swish shut behind her and turned to face the fireplace. A single envelope had fluttered through it, landing on a small, decorative end table. Collecting the letter, Emma moved around the large staircase to her father's study. A small fireplace was blazing, mostly to provide warmth to the small house which had not seen electrical power since before Emma's father died. A single figure sat at a long wooden table surrounded by heaps of parchment.

"I got another one," Emma said, setting the letter inside his overflowing in-basket.

Percy glanced up at her, blinking in the sudden chill that she had brought in with her. Biting his lip, he glanced at the basket before returning to the letter he was crafting. "I'll get to it when I can," he muttered, though his movements were frenzied. Emma sat on the chair across from him and shifted a pile of parchment onto the chair next to hers. Percy looked as though he hadn't been sleeping again. Dark rings circled under his eyes. His skin was so pale the freckles popped out comically. His red hair was on end from being run through so many times by frustrated fingers. What had once turned into a rescue mission had turned into a daily chore for Percy, who spent growing hours outside the Ministry of Magic answering letters, sending reassuring posts for the British press and basically handling damage control.

"Percy," Emma said, reaching across the table to place her hand over his. Percy's eyes, which were rereading his letter so fast his eyes were bouncing back and forth, glanced up at her.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice tense. "Did you hear anything upstairs?"

"No, I haven't heard anything," Emma replied, shaking her head. "All Mr. Giles does is read up there. He has barely said three words to either of us since we found them in Bulgaria. He hasn't said how the mansion burned down yet or how all of the members of Buffy's team managed to die."

Percy shrugged, returning his attention to the letter.

"Percy, stop, please," Emma said, causing Percy to set down the letter, aggravated. "You're going to work yourself to death. Buffy wouldn't want that, would she?"

"How should I know?"

"Because you're her best friend," Emma replied evenly. "And I know you're going through a tough time right now."

"A tough time?" he asked faintly. "Emma, my entire office was killed. We still are trying to scrounge up enough names for an interim Minister for Magic. This is a letter to the Prime Minister of England attempting to convince him not to worry about the public riots in London last week because they were most likely caused by disgruntled Ministry survivors out of a job. Blimey!"

"I don't care if they start blowing up Muggle buildings," Emma snapped. "You still need rest, Perce. They can't expect you to handle everything here in Germany. If you asked for help, maybe they wouldn't be so disgruntled."

"Honestly," Percy snorted, folding up the letter and shoving it in an envelope, "I wouldn't ask them for help if they were last people in the Ministry government. It's not my fault the Death Eaters and Inferi managed to kill all the morons in the office."

Emma fell quiet, knowing in her heart that Percy hadn't meant his harsh words. But she still felt hurt by them. Percy seemed to realize what he said because he bowed his head and ran his hands over the tired lines in his face. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Emma said, unable to keep the pain from her voice. She felt her stomach clench and the tears start and lifted her hand to shield her eyes from him. A moment later, she heard the sounds of the chair legs scrape against the bottom of the floor as he came around the table and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Bending down, he took her hand in his and turned her face gently towards his. Concerned eyes stared softly into hers.

"Emma, please. I really didn't mean anything against your mother."

"I know you didn't," she said quietly. "I'm just… it still hurts."

"We both lost people we loved," Percy admitted. "I guess the way we keep living is we have to keep holding on. There is this great future out there but I feel like we have to survive some huge battle to get there."

"You want a battle?" Emma asked humorlessly. "The next time one of us gets to contact Oliver Wood to tell him about Buffy, you do it. I spent over an hour in that fireplace trying to convince him she wasn't dead. Blimey. He's training in Malta now that the first half of the season is over. It's a pity, too… Puddlemere is doing quite well this year. He played the last match of the year. But he lost it when I told him what happened to Buffy."

"When is he coming back?"

"He'll be back right after Christmas," Emma replied. "I think he thought he was safe as his parents were found after all, safe and sound in Rome."

"I'll bet," Percy said wryly.

"The point is… he'll be here in maybe three weeks. We need to get Mr. Giles to tell us what happened."

"I could ask him," Percy offered, knowing that Emma had already done quite a few contacts already.

"You can," Emma said, eyeing him up and down. "But first, you need sleep. You should go."

"Em, it's in the middle of the afternoon."

"I know, but I also know you didn't sleep at all last night. You're going to fall asleep on your piles soon."

"But the piles aren't going anywhere," Percy mumbled, staring at the stacks and feeling his eyes glaze over.

"Leave that to me. I'll open the letters and separate them into piles. I mean, all I've been doing is trying to make this house livable again. The least I could do is share some of your burden."

"Bless you," Percy said, rising to his feet and hugging Emma from behind. She gasped as he held her, awkwardly patting the top of his head a few times before he disappeared.

"Sleep now."

"Yeah, I think I'll get some rest," Percy said, giving her a wan smile. "I am waiting to hear from the Headmaster at Durmstrang. If he should happen to call…"

"I'll tell him to call back later," Emma said firmly. "You are getting ten hours or I will knock you out with one of my mother's pricey – yet stylish – candlesticks."

Percy rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room. By the time he reached the top of the steps, he could feel the fatigue wearing on him. This rescue mission was turning into a lot more than he had in mind.

Rupert Giles felt his head snap up and looked warily around the room as he heard the floorboards creak outside the room he was in. He frowned as his eyes stared at the door, but the footfalls creaked past it and he exhaled, shifting his weight uneasily in the chair. Buffy was still lying in the middle of a wide, comfortable bed. The flannel sheets were pulled to her chin, her arms limply lying at her side. She merely looked at first glance as though she were only sleeping, but Giles knew better. He had heard her thrashing about only a week ago, but had found her in the same condition only moments later. It was the first hint of hope he had for her… everything else seemed lost.

He rose and moved to the single window, opening the shade and glancing at the world outside. The small, wooden house was cozy and comfortable, providing everything he and Buffy needed during this ordeal. His lips curved as he saw the blankets of snow redefining the landscape.

"It's almost Christmas, too," he said to nobody in particular. As he let the curtain fall back, he returned to his armchair and glanced at the book on the small table next to the glass of water. Every few hours, a hot meal on a tray would appear outside his door. But other than that he had no contact with the other two occupants of the house.

It wasn't that he wasn't grateful, because he really was. They had appeared suddenly in Bulgaria the same night he had torched the mansion. They were camped out in a gardener's shed when Percy had suddenly kicked down the door with an exhausted brunette he knew as Emma at his side. Emma had said they had a safe house for them in Germany. Worried about his Slayer's safety, he had taken her up on her offer with just one condition – to ask no questions as to the circumstances leading up to their rescue.

But he knew his desire to hold the truth to himself was waning. Who was he kidding? They had saved his life. He didn't know what he could have done other than barter and trade his way back to England.

Perhaps that night, once he rested… he could tell them everything that had happened.

After everything that they had risked for them… they deserved to know.

x-o-x

"Blimey," Ron said as he tucked his latest Potions test results into his bag, "that was a hard test. I can't believe I managed an 'Acceptable'."

"Better that than anything," Harry agreed, sighing at his own 'Acceptable' mark.

"But we really need to do better," Ron admitted, "if we want to make the cut. Don't Aurors need perfect N.E.W.T. Potion scores?"

"Probably," Harry replied as they rounded the corner towards the Great Hall for dinner. A group of excited fourth year Hufflepuffs hurried past them, whispering excitedly. "Did you hear we're doing Hogsmeade tomorrow? Last one of the year, too."

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, brightening. "The last one of the year, too, no? Half of the Aurors were posted there, so it's got to be safer than anywhere else. We're probably the most protected place in the world now."

"I guess," Harry blinked, never really looking at it that way. "I mean, I've seen a few Aurors in the halls. They're probably bored out of their minds hanging out in the lounge above the Hogs Head or something."

"I've seen Tonks, too."

"So have I," Harry realized. "Wasn't she at dinner last week?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron repeated. "Look, there's Hermione!"

As Ron ran to catch up with the third member of their infamous trio, Harry couldn't resist sneaking a look over at the Slytherin table. Faith was sitting with a group of sixth and seventh years. The person sitting at her right side was none other than Malfoy. Pushing his growing anxiety out of his mind, he forced himself to sit across from both Hermione and Ron and reach for a large bowl of lamb stew. Ron and Hermione were discussing the security precautions being taken for the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas break. The only had another week of lessons to go before they were released until January. Harry could hardly wait. Mrs. Weasley had invited him to what would likely be a subdued week at the Burrow. But Sirius had extended the Weasley family a Christmas Eve dinner invitation which they had accepted. Harry had been counting the days until he and Faith could finally be face-to-face once more – without interference from his classmates, his teachers or the Slytherins. Glancing across the Great Hall at them, they all appeared to be stone-faced and quiet.

"There's been another arrest," Ginny announced as she took the vacant chair next to Harry. This seemed to be a good explanation as to why they all looked so somber. "One of the officers in the Magical Law Enforcement department was arrested last night and thrown into some unknown prison. They say she was feeding Death Eaters information on the inner workings of the Ministry of Magic. The warrant was apparently signed by Percy."

To Harry's surprise, Ginny suddenly looked proud at saying her brother's name. "Who was it?"

"Millicent Bulstrode's mother," Hermione spoke up from across the table. "I heard them talking about it in Potions."

Ron stared at Hermione incredulously over his goblet. "You mean you weren't hanging onto every single word Professor Snape said?"

"Of course not," Hermione snapped. "Today was a review lesson."

"True," Harry admitted. Though it was a review lesson, Hermione raised her hand only twice, which was completely un-Hermione-like behavior. "How did you do on the test?"

"'Outstanding' of course," Ron smirked.

"Well, yes," Hermione replied, a proud little smile playing around her mouth as she ate another bite of her shepherd's pie. "I did rather well."

As Ron's and Hermione's voices faded out, his eyes scanned the Head Table. To his surprise, Wesley Windham-Pryce had joined the staff table on the very end near Hagrid. His eyes casually glanced over the students in the Great Hall, but his eyes lingered on the Slytherin table. Malfoy was now talking in a low, serious voice. Several of the Slytherins were nodding while others looked sickened.

"Just how bad was this arrest?" Harry asked Ginny. Swallowing a bit of potatoes, she leaned closer to him.

"It wasn't. She went quietly. Her husband had a few issues about it, though. Apparently half their living room was blasted apart when he heard about her arrest. I don't think he knows where she was taken."

"I know it couldn't be Azkaban. The Ministry had no way to protect it."

"And if they were in Ministry control, don't you think they'd want some payback after what happened at the Ministry?"

Harry nodded, realizing how dangerous the situation was and how quickly it could spiral out of control. "I wonder where they went."

"I'd ask Percy, but he's in Germany."

Harry nodded, knowing all about it. A few days after he had complained of little news, a single piece of parchment had appeared one morning, explaining that both Giles and Buffy were safe in Germany at Emma Vance's parents' home there. Buffy had not awakened though and Giles had yet to explain how the rest of their vampire hunting party had died as well as how the mansion that had been their headquarters had burnt to the ground.

Ginny was looking at him in that appraising sort of way again. "Have you had a chance to think about what we talked about last time?" she asked him lightly.

"I have."

"You have?" she asked in surprise.

"A little," Harry admitted. The truth was, the fact that Ginny held such high belief in him was heartwarming. He needed to feel the confidence of others. "I'm thinking of restarting the D.A."

"Really?" Ginny asked him, reaching for her goblet. "Why only thinking?"

"Because in all honesty asking Hogwarts to fight my war is a little disconcerting," Harry replied.

"It's not just your war," Ginny reminded him. "We've all lost a little."

"Some of you have lost a lot," Harry replied. He was suddenly aware that many Gryffindors were staring hard at him. "The problem is, I think you all have what you need to know. I taught you how to protect yourselves with Shield Charms, how to defend yourselves with hexes—"

"It isn't going to be enough, mate," Ron said, glancing at the other interested Gryffindors before leaning across the table to Harry. "After everything that's happened, we need the best. We need—"

"A watcher," Harry realized, his eyes turning to the staff table. Wesley was staring in the direction of the Ravenclaw table and didn't see Harry's appraising look. "I can teach you how to fight with the best of them. But that isn't what we need. What we need is—"

"Fred and George," Hermione said simply.

Harry blinked at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"Haven't you heard of their latest line of work?" Hermione asked. "I heard a few of the Aurors talking about it yesterday. Apparently they have a new section at their shop now, just developed: shield charms."

"Shield charms?" Ginny asked.

"They've been developing them for a while now, apparently," Hermione replied, leaning in. "The Aurors first thought they were a bit of a joke, but Fred and George have sold massive orders. Shield vests, shield hats, shield cloaks… you get hexed and the shield apparently protects its bearer."

"It won't protect you against _Avada_ _Kadavra_," Harry replied.

"No, but it would help against some minor jinxes," Hermione said patiently. "There have been thousands of new vendors last month trying to sell everything from amulets acting as invisibility cloaks to lucky toadstools that swear to ward off Voldemort himself."

"It's all rubbish," Harry said, waving his hand.

"Perhaps, but not all of them are," Hermione said, glancing at the head table before frowning at Harry. "The shield line might help us if you decide to start up the D.A. again. Wesley is a Watcher and does have experience that may help us when it comes down to hand-to-hand combat. A vendor is selling spell-proof vests to half of the Magical Law Enforcement staff policing London. And then there's this book—"

"I _knew_ it would come down to a book," Ron said sarcastically as Ginny whispered "Shh!" across the table at her brother.

"There's this book," Hermione said, throwing a wounded look at Ron, "full of homemade enchantments, jinxes, spells… real stuff that isn't included in anything the Dark Arts professors have taught us."

"I don't know, Hermione," Ron murmured. "I think this year has been pretty decent."

"We don't need decent, Ronald," Hermione snapped impatiently. "_Decent _isn't going to save our lives when Harry comes face-to-face with Voldemort. _Decent _isn't going to cover your hide when you—"

"No," Harry said loudly, drawing the attention of his fellow students again, "decent isn't going to work. We have to be perfect." He turned to Hermione. "Do you have this book?"

"I can't order it," Hermione admitted. "But a teacher can."

Harry almost laughed at the thought of asking Snape to order the book for them. He would probably think they were playing around with toys under his nose. But his gaze lingered at Professor McGonagall. Perhaps she would be fairer…

"It might be useful," Harry said, cutting Ron off, who snapped his mouth shut, looking mulish. "I will ask Professor McGonagall. If she doesn't go for it, I'll go all the way to Dumbledore. He can't refuse me, knowing that we're in this together now. And I'll check into your theory about Fred and George's new products, Hermione, thank you." She gave him a small smile and he felt something deep inside of him unclench and relax. Things had been so strained between them all year; it was nice to finally talk to her without all of the guilt. He took her valuable information as a sign of loyalty, which he felt incredibly grateful for. "As for getting the spell-proof vests, I'll check with McGonagall too."

"Does this mean you're starting the D.A. again?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"I certainly believe I am," Harry said proudly. A few of the Gryffindors sitting near him breathed sighs of relief; a few broke into spontaneous applause. Dozens of solemn Slytherins glared in his direction before turning back to their brooding. "It's time."

"It's about bloody time," Seamus Finnegan said a few seats down from Ron. "Brilliant choice, Harry!"

"Yes, Harry," Parvati Patil said, beaming over at him.

A loud murmur spread through the whole of the Great Hall until at last the news reached Faith Landing's ears. She was just getting ready to head back down to the dungeons and a later Potions tutorial when Juliet Rosier pulled her aside. "Did you hear?" she asked in a low, excited voice. "It sounds like Potter is starting Dumbledore's Army again."

"Literally?" Faith asked, too used to living on a Hellmouth to really decipher fact from fiction.

"Yes, literally," Juliet replied in a soft voice, rolling her eyes. "This is good news."

"Why is this good news?" Faith asked moodily.

Juliet cast a quick glance to make certain she wouldn't be overheard before leaning closer to Faith. "Because I know this way you can help him out, you know?"

"You know what?" Faith asked sharply, glaring at the taller woman. "Why would I want to help him out?"

"Because you look so tortured every time you look at him," Juliet replied as she watched Faith shove her books into her bag before hurling the strap over her shoulder. "And I know there's something there because I've seen him look at you."

"There can't be anything between us, ever," Faith replied icily. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bad guy sent out to kill him. It wouldn't look too well on my character if I just ignored that, would it?"

"Why worry about tomorrow when you have tonight?" Juliet asked lightly. Faith's eyes narrowed sharply and she looked down, grinding the toe of her boot into the marble. "I'm just saying."

"Sometimes you say too much," Faith murmured. When she looked up, she looked far from angry. She looked worried and a bit apprehensive. "Do you really think it's proper to join Dumbledore's Army?"

"Let's wait until the announcement is public before we make up our minds," Juliet assured her. "I've been waiting three years to prove my father's name. Do you really think I'd miss an opportunity to fight for the right side?"

"I've been waiting three months to ditch my father's name," Faith said sourly. "They sold me out to Voldemort before I could even learn my own name."

Juliet had winced when Faith had said Voldemort's name and sighed as Faith's words impacted her. "Well… I admit my father was a poor choice as a messenger as my mother didn't care enough to really put forth the effort in finding and _preparing _you, whatever that means."

"I've had it with people trying to dictate my life for me," Faith said, shrugging. "I mean, the good fight is what matters, yo. To hell with this Death Eater nonsense. If I didn't have to worry about that, then I wouldn't care which side of the hall I'm on as long as I was by Harry's side."

"I think you care about him a lot more than you're willing to admit," Juliet said. "And someday, those barriers are going to break down."

Faith was hoping so; Sirius had invited Harry and the Weasleys over to their house on Christmas Eve, just a week from Sunday, for dinner. She hoped that without the interference of her housemates or Wesley that she could finally have a conversation with Harry without hating herself for it. But she would rot in hell before she admitted that to Juliet, blossoming friend or not.

She was halfway out the Great Hall when Wesley suddenly appeared, calling her name. She said a hasty goodbye to Juliet before turning back to her Watcher. She could hardly believe that Wesley had offered to train her considering how horribly she had treated him a few months ago. But he had added in his dark, brooding tone that he believed she was stronger than the Dark Side took credit for, so he was willing to do what it took to prove it. She was grateful for the training; it meant one less tutorial with her irritating cousin a week. Lately he had taken this aggravating turn in bashing the Weasley family. Faith smirked as she remembered the look on his face when she told him about her tryst with Ron. He looked like she had just slaughtered his puppy.

"You have a guest in my fireplace," Wesley said in a low voice as they hastened up the stairs and down a corridor Faith had never been down. Wesley's room was little more than a closet with a bed and a chest of drawers thrown in for good measure. A small table with a pitcher and a goblet decorated one end while a small fireplace stood on the opposite end. A head was bobbing up at down, flames licking at his sunken cheeks. Faith's eyebrows lifted in surprise as she recognized her brother's once-handsome face grinning at her from the fireplace.

"Hi, Faith," he said cheerfully.

"Sirius," she said, getting down onto the floor and crossing her legs neatly. "What brings this visit about?"

"Your letter," Sirius said darkly. "You said a friend gave it to you?"

"Yes," Faith replied. "Her name is Juliet Rosier. Her father was—"

"Evan," Sirius replied softly. "I see. Faith… the details in this letter are vivid and they—"

"—are all coming true, right?" she asked.

"Well, for the most part." His eyes switched to look at Wesley, who was crouched down a few feet behind his Slayer. "Do you know about this letter?"

"I do not."

"Allow me to read the beginning," Sirius said, closing his eyes. "I've read it so many times this past week it's memorized completely. Dearest Girl, you have been summoned—"

As Sirius continued to read the letter, Wesley watched the look on Faith's face. It was darkening to the point of being completely lost in shadows. He felt his own anger simmering beneath the surface. Apparently, Faith's future included a dark destiny as a daughter of supporters to those of the Death Eaters. She was being sacrificed to Voldemort's cause to lead the next generation of Death Eaters whose collective power would surpass that of Dumbledore's. With that power, the second generation would wipe out any chance Dumbledore had to protect the 'Chosen One'. As Sirius stopped reciting the letter, Wesley turned to Faith, who was staring at the floor, apparently near tears.

"I don't believe a word of it," Sirius suddenly said.

Faith looked up, tears shining in her enraged eyes. "What?"

"You honestly believe that you have the ability to become a new chosen one, the one that the world will see as an all-powerful vessel as a conductor for pure evil?" Sirius chided, his eyes sparkling despite the flames surrounding them. "You may be marked, Delita, but you are no vessel. And you're certainly not evil."

"I'm part demon," Faith snapped. "What do you call that?"

"A mere coincidence," Sirius replied. "I didn't know you existed until you got here. It was through your powers that I was able to return at all."

"He's right, Faith," Wesley said softly behind her.

"If you were truly evil, would you be able feel like you would? You hate yourself and what you can become for no reason whatsoever. Don't you have any faith in yourself?"

"I…" she started before shaking her head helplessly. "I don't know."

"Faith, listen to me. You are a good person. You wouldn't have gone back to California if you weren't. You would never have saved Buffy's life if you weren't. And you wouldn't be here now if you were evil. The reason you're good is as easy as this – you can love. Your heart is a burning ocean of desire and wants and need… and you love the one person you were created to destroy. I wouldn't call it fate or destiny or coincidence or chance… I would call it luck. You are here because you chose to be here. You're choosing now to resist what you were born for. Our brother chose a different life for you and he paid for it with his own. Will you let that sacrifice go to waste? Or is all the pain and suffering and agony leading you up to your moment to shine? I believe in you, Faith. I believe that this letter came to you now as a test to prove your loyalties. You're proving them quite well."

Faith was quite beside herself, unable to look at either her brother or her Watcher. "But, I—"

"No," Wesley said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I think you should listen to him. Because I think he's onto something."

"Harry is not your enemy. Why are you holding back? Why are you torturing yourself? Because you think you deserve it… you think you're dirty, tainted with the Dark Mark. Well, to hell with it." Sirius suddenly smiled at her, his eyes shining to her despite a tear slipping beyond her control. "Don't be afraid to let them see who you really are. You're not a monster. You're no demon or chosen one or hellion or whatever this letter makes you want to believe. You're my sister and I'm damned proud to call you my family."

Faith smirked through her tears as she shook her head. "I suppose I should tell you now I don't do well with mushy speeches."

"You better get used to them," Sirius warned, the corner of his mouth twisting. "You're probably going to be hearing a lot of them soon."

"Harry's starting Dumbledore's Army again." Faith blurted out, causing Sirius to blink in surprise. "I thought you'd want to know."

"Maybe there's hope for this world yet," Sirius marveled, glancing behind him. "I'd better go. I'll see you next weekend?"

"You bet your ass you will," Faith replied. Sirius disappeared a few moments later, leaving Faith staring at the floor. "I never knew my brother could be so cool."

"He is quite unlike your parents if that letter is anything to judge them by," Wesley said, offering his hand to Faith and helping her from the floor.

"They are as awful as that letter proclaims them to be," Faith scowled. "But… I guess Reggie didn't suck, being that he saved my life and all. And Sirius is a hell of a lot cooler than I thought he could be. When I found him a few months ago when I first got back, he was a pale, pathetic drunk. I guess war changes people."

"You have no idea," Wesley said darkly. "Didn't you have a tutorial tonight?"

"I do."

"And Dumbledore's Army?"

Faith paused, her hand on the edge of the portrait covering Wesley's doorway. "I'm going to wait until Harry makes the official announcement. Then I'll make my move."

"Good girl, Faith."

"Thanks, Wes," Faith said, offering him one last smirk. "You know… you'd be quite the asset to Harry's little army."

"I beg your pardon," he frowned, glancing up from the journal he'd picked up from his bedside table.

"I'm serious," Faith said as Wesley looked back down at his journal. "Think about it. But don't think too hard. We're running out of time."

x-o-x

Emma was carefully listing all of the essential letters Percy had to write when she heard someone enter the room. The door clicked quietly as it was pushed open and she glanced up, preparing to berate Percy for only being gone four hours when she saw the exhausted and rumpled form of Rupert Giles standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Giles," she said, setting down the quill and gesturing towards one of the chairs at the table. "Are you all right?"

"I think not," he replied. "What happened at the Ministry?"

Emma retold her account of events, speaking of her mother's last moments as well as Fleur Delacour's and Bill Weasley's. After she fell silent, Giles looked down and nodded. "I thought as much," he replied. "You and Percy both bear the weight of grief and it isn't light."

"It has been a difficult time for us both," Emma admitted. "But I think the strain is wearing on Percy more than I. He has all of this to deal with."

Giles glanced at the stacks of paper littering the entire office. He stared at the lists Emma had scattered on the table and frowned. "This is a list of speeches that he needs to make?"

"Yes," Emma said. "You see, Percy is the sole survivor of the high administrative body of the Minister of Magic's office. He has been taking on a lot of responsibility since the attack."

"You mean he has all of this responsibility as well as Buffy's care in mind?"

"She's his best friend," Emma grudgingly said. "He was the only one alive who knew what happened to her. He tried to get the word out, but he also wanted to go to Bulgaria and get you both out. He wanted to rescue his friend."

"A noble gesture," Giles sighed. "But perhaps your rescue was in vain. Buffy is no more awake now than she was two months ago."

"What happened to her?" Emma asked softly.

"She was poisoned by a dart from one of her teammate's arrows," Giles explained. "The best I can figure is that there was a hex attached to the dart or else a potion, one that would cause the wound to heal but would occupy her mind or perhaps drop her into a sleep close to death."

"The Draught of Living Death would essentially accomplish that," Emma surmised. "It could however be something that would cause the dreamer to dream a dream that wouldn't allow them to awaken until the dream was over."

"It could very well be either of those," Giles replied. "I just hope she wakes up soon. Her body cannot handle the malnourishment or dehydration she has suffered. Being in this house has helped some as we were able to get much needed resources to assist in her recovery, but I'm afraid that if she doesn't wake soon, she'll die."

"After all this, after everything they wanted her for, it all comes down to this? It doesn't seem possible."

"Kristofer is the one who betrayed her," Giles said suddenly, causing Emma's attention to shift back to him again. "He bore no Dark Mark nor did he speak of the Dark Lord as anything more than something to fear. It is possible that he was working under orders from the Ministry of Magic."

"No!" Emma gasped, shaking her head. "No, it couldn't be! If they were, Percy would have known! He had enough power… he would not have let that happen to her! He had to have been a Death Eater."

"I don't think he was," Giles said. "If he wasn't from the government or a Death Eater, perhaps he is someone that supports your Dark Lord. Or else he is working to undermine the power that her brother now possesses, according to your Daily Prophet."

"You read that?" Emma asked in surprise; that morning's headline had boasted that Harry Potter was stepping up his role at Hogwarts and was restarting Dumbledore's Army again.

"I have. But it doesn't matter. Kristofer killed both the leader of the vampire hunting team, Irene Ironton, and his other teammate, a man named Tomas. I was forced to take action when he came after me. I had to… terminate him."

"You did what you had to do to protect her," Emma whispered. "Had you died, he would have been able to do whatever he wanted with her. Isn't that the most disgusting thought?"

"I burned the mansion so that I could protect her in case others would come to find her… or find him, more specifically," Giles replied. "I hope this answers some of your questions."

"That and it makes me want to ask more," Emma said. "You must've been so brave."

"I did what I had to do," Giles replied. "Just as you and young Mr. Weasley have done what you had to do."

Percy hovered at the top of the stairs. He could barely hear the conversation below as Emma and Mr. Giles spoke. He heard Emma asking questions and heard Mr. Giles answering them in his quiet voice. He continued down the hall, grinding all sleep from his eyes. He felt guilty for closing his eyes for a moment; his best friend was hovering between life and death. What sort of person was he for not doing everything in his power to save her?

He pushed open the door to Buffy's room. An armchair rested next to the bed, a table cluttered with books and newspapers stood next to it. His eyes searched the pale face of his dearest friend and he found himself swallowing a painful lump in his throat. As the voices dwindled downstairs, he sat on the bed and took one of her tiny, cold hands into his.

"Buffy," he murmured, watching the way she slept. Her face looked so peaceful, though he felt something was terribly wrong inside. He wondered why anyone would want to hurt her until he realized the hand he held was opposite the one marked with the Dark Mark. "I know you can't hear me, but I'm hoping somehow you can understand what I need to say. Things are happening out here in the real world. People are dying. People suffer. People are starting to lose faith in the government's ability to fight this war. So they're turning to the one person they have left – Harry Potter. It's strange, you lying here while our world falls apart. But even I forget that you're not invulnerable. You have weaknesses, too. They apparently found yours.

"When you wake up, things are going to be different. People are harder now. They've been through a lot. I lost my brother. I lost my friend. My bosses are gone after being tortured. I'm finally getting the attention I've wanted only to realize how big of a burden it is. I miss the way things used to be. If I could take back some of the things I did or said or how I treated my family… well, I probably wouldn't take them all back, but it'd be close. The one thing I have now that I didn't have then is knowledge. I know who my friends are now. I know that when everything was falling apart I knew I could still do one thing… rescue my best friend. Some hero I turned out to be. You're no more cured now than you were when we found you both. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"The thing is, Harry needs you. He needs to know his family is behind him. Your friends need you. They miss you. They even kind of love you. And I… I need you. I even love you. Isn't it strange? Two years ago, you didn't exist and now I can't imagine my life a day without you in it. If you're ever alone in there, you're not out here. Someone's watching over you. Someone's got your back. Don't be afraid to lose if you have to wake up again."

Percy bent down, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. It was almost chilled, her skin like porcelain. Swallowing his tears, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before clutching her hand to his heart. "Whatever happens will happen. But if you die on me, I will make you sorry you ever decided to waltz into your world. I'll make you so sorry that—" Words failed him utterly and he shook his head sadly. "Don't give up. Don't give in. You're a fighter, so do what you do best and fight this."

He heard the floor creak behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he saw both Emma and Mr. Giles standing there. Mr. Giles had a funny look on his face while Emma was staring hard at the floor. "I'm sorry," Percy said, dropping her hand and rising quickly. "I'm… I just had to say my thing."

"And I think you said exactly what you needed to say," Mr. Giles said not unkindly. "Now, if you would please…"

Percy slouched out of the room. He heard the door close behind them. Emma was now standing near the stairs, her arms crossed. Her head was shaking and she was looking at him as though seeing him in a new light. "I never thought I'd see the day when the great Percy Weasley would be reduced to a sap."

"I did not," Percy argued as Emma took him by the arm, dragging him past the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. "And I'm not going to sleep. You can't make me."

Seizing one of the heavy candlesticks on the desk, she held it out for him to see, twirling it for good measure. "If you knew me at all, you'd know I hold my promises. You promised me ten hours."

"I gave you four," Percy argued.

"No excuses," she snapped as Percy sat back down on the bed, sighing. "I don't care how guilty you feel. You're either going to sleep or I will knock you out. The choice is yours. It's your head."

Remembering what he said about knowing who his friends were, he cast an irritated look at the woman he considered his friend. "You're annoying, you know that?"

"And you're bloody stubborn," she reminded him, giving the candlestick another twirl. Scowling, Percy pulled the covers over his head. "Happy?" he asked, his voice muffled.

"Outstandingly," Emma replied in a teasing voice. A moment later, he heard the soft click of his door as she left him, finally, in peace.

x-o-x

"Brr," Hermione murmured as she climbed out of one of the carriages. The air was thick with fog so that the only thing they could see was the hand in front of their faces. Snow crunched beneath their feet as the trio hurried away from the column of carriages. Harry felt fortunate that the school had provided the carriages as it was both cold and windy outside. Once again, the Dementors seemed to dictate the weather. A narrow line of Hogwarts students were rushing up the Hogsmeade street, their heads bowed to the wind and their collars turned up against the chill.

But the village itself had changed in the past few weeks. The warm shops normally boasting Christmas lights and decorations were hidden behind large black posters showing images of wanted Death Eaters, images on how to detect Inferi, tips on what to do when coming face-to-face with a Dementor and holiday safety pointers to protect the family. Harry paused on the way up to stare at a poster with a picture of a mangled pile of bodies and two small models of an Inferi. Shuddering at their empty eye sockets and transparent skin, Harry hurried on, only to plough into Ron. "What is it?" he asked, rubbing his aching shoulder with numb fingers.

"Tonks," Ron murmured out of the corner of his mouth. Ron was facing the carriages as a woman stumbled through the snow. There were two figures lurking behind one of the carriages.

"Harry," Hermione breathed, her fingers reaching to clutch his arm. "Someone's out there."

Glancing around, Harry saw that they were the only ones aware of the danger. "Come on," he said, taking off down the hill. Hermione and Ron drew out their wands and followed. By the time they had reached the bottom of the hill, Tonks wasn't the only one with the strangers. Another figure in a dark cloak had joined them. Through wisps of fog, he recognized Wesley's tall form standing near Tonks. He appeared to be arguing with the strangers. Their voices were barely audible over the howling wind. Without a moment's thought, he pushed forward.

"Harry, not so fast!" Hermione gasped, stumbling and nearly keeling over into the snow. She managed to catch herself on the carriage. At hearing her gasp, Harry spun around and helped Hermione back to her feet. She clung to him, all the while eyeing the strangers over his shoulder. Her eyes suddenly widened as she breathed, "Willow."

Harry spun around so quickly Hermione lost her balance again. She managed to stay on her feet thanks to Ron, who had taken her by the shoulders and had maneuvered her out of the deeper snow. Now that they were within a few feet of the strangers, he recognized the one with short red hair and freckles immediately. Tonks was standing next to Wesley, her hand on his sleeve in what was likely meant to soothe him as the Watcher seemed to be telling off the women.

"Willow?" Harry asked, stepping behind the carriage into Willow's viewpoint.

The girl stopped talking and turned to look at him. A moment later, her hand lifted in a cheerful wave. Harry couldn't help but smile at her padded blue mittens that matched the brilliant blue of her winter coat. "Harry!"

"Come on," Harry muttered to the others as he moved forward. He was stopped a moment later by a snarling Tonks.

"You do not walk up to strangers like that," she hissed.

"But she's a friend."

"And I can assure you, she's quite safe," Wesley replied, gently pulling Tonks away from Harry. "I appreciate your concern, but—"

"His concern is none of your concern," Tonks said, rounding on Wesley and poking him in the chest with her index finger.

"It is certainly my concern," Wesley shouted back.

Leaving the Auror and Watcher alone, he gestured Willow and her guest to the side. Willow shivered as the wind whipped again, lifting her short curls and blowing them across her face. When they were out of sight from the Auror, she stopped and hugged him. Surprised, he hugged her back.

"How are you holding up?" she asked lightly, though he could clearly see the emotion in her eyes.

"I'm okay," he said, before spying the look in her eyes as she broke eye contact. "Are you okay?"

"I honestly don't know," Willow replied. Shivering, she glanced around the carriages. "Is there a better place to talk? It's a little cold out here."

"The weather has been quite unusual lately," Willow's friend spoke in a clear American accent.

"And I'll do introductions," Willow promised them.

"Let's try the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said through chattering teeth. "It's right up on top of the hill."

As they bustled up the hill, Harry was suddenly quite aware that one of the shops was boarded up as a group of disappointed students were turned away.

"Ronald!"

"Ginny?" Ron asked, turning to face his sister. She appeared, her cheeks bright pink from the cold, with two figures skulking behind her. "Look who I found checking out Zonko's."

"Zonko's?" Harry asked, rounding on the twin Weasleys, every freckle standing out from their pale faces. "Don't tell me it's closed!"

"It boarded up around Halloween," Fred said, tucking his hands inside his pockets and looking wistfully down the street. "We were thinking of opening a Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"We were just about to go inside," Hermione told them, leaning in to be heard over the whistling wind. "Care to join us?"

The four Weasleys with Harry, Hermione, Willow and her friend trooped inside Madam Rosmerta's. As usual, the Three Broomsticks was crowded. Spying a table in the back, Harry maneuvered through the hoards of students to the back table while Ron and Ginny stayed behind to order drinks.

"Are they actual drinks?" Willow's friend asked as she removed her coat. Once inside and out of the elements, Harry could see that Willow's friend was actually quite pretty. She had a mystical, earthy look to her that appealed to him for some reason. And when he thought about it, he could almost sense the power from her.

Ron and Ginny returned a few moments later with Madam Rosmerta. Ron handed both Harry and Hermione a mug of warm butterbeer while Willow and her friend accepted the same from Ginny. Madam Rosmerta handed the Weasley children their beverages before she disappeared with a flash of sequins.

"I think I'll do the introductions now," Willow said over the excited holiday chatter all around them. "This is Tara Maclay. She's at Oxford with me."

"Hi," Tara said, waving shyly and glancing around at all of the curious faces at the table.

Hermione suddenly took over, pushing her mug aside. "I'm Hermione Granger. This is Harry Potter," she said, indicating Harry on her left. "That's Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Fred Weasley and… oh, sorry George. Well, George Weasley and Fred Weasley."

"It is really good to see you guys again."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked Willow curiously.

"I'm afraid that it's business," Willow replied, reaching into her coat and pulling out a long, narrow box. She set it on the table and paused before meeting Harry's gaze dead-on. "Angel's in England again."

"What is he doing here?" Harry asked, his senses automatically prickling at the thought of his sister's ex hovering around so close. "Is he dangerous again?"

"He's concerned," Tara spoke up, reaching for the box and removing its top. "He… he's worried more about you than her, since I don't think he knows what happened to Buffy."

"Have you met Buffy?" Fred asked Tara, eyeing her with sudden interest.

Tara shook her head and glanced back down. "I don't know her."

"She's our friend," George said, shrugging as he eyed his half-empty mug. "We protect our friends."

"I don't know about protecting any friends," Willow said in a hushed voice, "but your welcoming committee was rude."

"They're concerned about Harry," Ginny said apologetically. "Please… we don't get many non-magic folk through Hogsmeade."

Tara had finally removed the top of the box and held it up, turning it to the others. Inside, a necklace glowed ominously.

"Who said anything about us being non-magical?"

x-o-x

Faith stared longingly at the fog outside as Wesley cleared his throat behind her. Brandishing a sword, he looked formidable by reflection. But this was a learning process for them both.

"I don't see why I couldn't go out," Faith said stubbornly as she collected her own sword from the table next to her. "You keep telling me how important it is to socialize with people my own age."

"But there is also importance in your training," Wesley said, giving the sword a fancy twirl. "You have said yourself that you aren't ready to throw off the dark influence that surrounds you like an aura. I have just three words for you, Faith: preparation, preparation, preparation."

"That's still one word repeated three times," Faith replied, giving her own sword a twist.

"You are going home next weekend?" Wesley asked, circling around her while holding his sword out to her, as though expecting her to strike.

"Intend to," Faith murmured, rounding around the back, her eyes narrowing to the blinding fog glistening from the snow outside. "What are your holiday plans?"

"I intend to stay at the castle and prepare you for your second term," Wesley said as the tips of their swords scraped, creating an ungodly sound.

"I think you should come to my house and spend the holidays with Sirius and me," Faith offered as she drew her sword arm back. Again, they kept moving. "Buffy and I put up a training room. You can train me there. There's no reason to lose any time because we have no place to train," she added.

Wesley suddenly lowered his sword. "I'm touched."

"You shouldn't be," Faith replied, lunging forward suddenly and catching her Watcher off-guard. Spinning to the side, he blocked her thrust and sent her back to her starting position. "Up until last year, I didn't have a family. You did."

"How quickly things change," Wesley said ironically as they continued circling. "I think perhaps I may take you up on your offer."

"It'll be fun," she said as their swords scraped again. "Besides, I think you need to meet my brother."

"Well, thank you. I'm still touched."

Faith suddenly lowered her sword to block his thrust and pushed him away, kicking at his sword and sending Wesley spiraling into a wall. "Don't mention it."

x-o-x

Elise carefully threaded her belt through the loops on her slacks, enjoying the feel of her uniform on her body. It just felt right, sitting just below her hips. Though the color left something to be desired, it made her feel as though she belonged to something. Smoothing her top, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. A short woman with a tight blonde bun stared back at her. The gaze was solemn despite her attempt to smile at her reflection.

"All right," came a masculine voice behind her as Cedric entered his bedroom, tying a necktie around his neck and attempting to recite his daily calendar at the same time. "I've got a meeting with one of my mother's clients this morning. I have lunch with a client at noon. I should be in the office for most of the afternoon. I have to call the head of some committee by five, so I should get that done earlier. We have dinner reserved tonight at seven with the caterer. Does that cover about everything?"

"It sounds far better than my day," Elise said, turning and helping him with his tie. He repaid her kindness by kissing her. A moment later, he pulled back, a smirk filling his handsome face.

"You smell incredible," he said, leaning in to hold her again. She laughed as she pushed him away. "You're not cheating on me with someone who gives you expensive perfume, are you?"

"Depends on if his name is Cedric Diggory," she replied, showing him a bottle on top of his dresser. He sighed as he glanced at her toiletries mixed among his. The so-called mess had been getting worse for the past few months. "Your office assistant is very kind. Thank her for me, will you?"

"Okay, so I couldn't remember what I got you," he scowled, watching as she started to put her shoes on. "We're still on for dinner tonight, though, right?"

"If you send your assistant, I'll hurt you," she replied, smiling at the near-panicky look on his face.

"I think we've both been busy these past few weeks. I've got all of this to deal with. You have your job to deal with. On top of everything else, we're planning a wedding."

Elise smiled softly, recalling the feeling just the week before that she had finally found her perfect wedding dress. She had been in a specialty store in London, searching amongst the many racks before she found the perfect dress. She heard Cedric's mother telling her it was uncustomary for a woman to select her wedding dress off-the-rack, but she didn't care. She was a Potter, after all.

"Right," she said quietly, getting to her feet as his arms wrapped around her. "We've got the caterer tonight. And remember… no fish. Dawn's allergic to all things fish and as she's one of my bridesmaids, I am actually going to succumb to her wishes."

"All right," he replied, resting his head on top of hers for one peaceful moment. "Tomorrow we're selecting music, right?"

"Yes," she breathed. "But no more now, okay? I'm just basking in this moment."

He closed his eyes for one blissful moment. The entire world seemed safe and they were in their bubble. In less than four months, they would be joined together… forever.

"I love you," he said, rubbing her back with slow, practiced motions.

"I love you,' she replied, glancing up at him. Her body arched into his as his lips touched hers before he broke away.

"I should probably go. So should you… don't you have to be in the office by seven?"

Elise laughed as she grabbed her shoulder pack and pulled it on. "I do."

"I will see you tonight then," he said, pulling her back towards him despite her weak protests. "My mother wanted to come, but I think I turned her off of it."

"I hope so," she scowled, slapping his arm playfully. "That's not very funny. If you do that, you may just have to save me tonight."

Cedric laughed as she strode out of the room, feeling happy and light. Each day with her was an adventure, he thought, staring at his once-quiet atmosphere. He wouldn't give any of this up for the world.

Ever.

x-o-o-x

In the next chapter… Elise faces her choices in a situation which may destroy her "perfect" life.

**Final Note:** I kept the reviewer's responses in the profile, but it also includes something else. The next chapter may be a few weeks away. I leave tomorrow for a week and my beta is gone for the next two after I return. It is also the chapter I am most anxious to get to, so hopefully I can dedicate plenty of time for it. It is entirely a Buffy-centric chapter, so be forewarned.


	15. Save Me Tonight

Sunlight was just beginning to spill onto the streets on a brisk, London morning. Turning the wheel of her car, she maneuvered into the morning traffic, taking in the sights and sounds of her city. The chatter on her radio drew her attention as she called in her status before continuing on, the large building she called headquarters looming into view. After a quick walk-through in the crowded corridors, she made her way back out into the morning. But no morning was complete without caffeine. She waved to a pair of officers before climbing back into the right side of her car and continuing on. Most of the roads were jammed by this hour, but it didn't bother her. Hazel eyes narrowed as she observed the area, watching and waiting for any morning lawbreakers. Finding none, she eventually made her way to her favorite coffee shop.

She had been slightly proud to have remembered this coffee place without anyone telling her about it. Though close to the district her patrol frequented, it was far enough away to warrant a visit every few days. Parking her car into a tight slot, she got out and smiled at the hazy sunshine warning her entire body. Placing her sunglasses on, she marched into the crowded shop.

One side was devoted completely to relaxation, she saw. A dozen armchairs and sofas were arranged around a set of low tables with antique lamps. Newspapers and magazines in a half dozen languages were scattered on a counter near the front area where the coffee bar was located. Buffy moved into line and held her tongue until at least she reached the front, not bothering to acknowledge the slightly wary looks she received because of her uniform.

A young man working the counter glanced up when he saw her standing there, scanning the menu with her sunglasses obscuring her eyes. "May I help you, officer?"

A sudden figure appeared next to him, nudging the man out of the way with a hip. "Why don't you take the back, Pete? I got this covered."

The young man turned to her, dark eyes flashing behind tortoise-shell glasses. "Excuse me?"

The woman nodded to the officer and he shrugged, slinking towards the back. The woman sighed, shook her head and turned to Buffy, who was slowly removing her glasses, eyeing the young woman with curiosity. "Thank God we got rid of him… he's a bit wet behind the ears," she confided in a quiet voice, leaning across the counter towards Buffy. "So, how you been, Ellie?"

"Not too bad," Buffy replied, smiling blandly as she still couldn't figure out how she knew this woman. Her eyes were drawn to a necklace that had popped out of the woman's top as she had leaned across the counter. Shaking her head to clear it, she glanced back at the menu. "I'll have a—"

"Double caramel latte with a double shot," the woman automatically replied. Shaking back her hair, Buffy could see that her nametag read 'Dell'. "I got it. You haven't changed your standing caffeine addiction in two years. I doubt even Mr. So-Hot-He-Can-Have-Everything can change that."

"Oh…kay?" Buffy asked lightly as she stepped to the side, opening the wallet she'd unhooked from her belt. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"I hope it does, because it's my specialty, Elle. Don't tell me you forgot about that?"

"Oh, no," Buffy said in a hurried tone. "I haven't forgotten everything, just…"

"You have no clue who I am, do you?" Dell asked with a sigh. "I'm not expecting miracles, I guess. You took a bad fall. They tend to mess with your head. So… you set a date yet?"

"Um, yeah," Buffy said, watching as the woman worked the espresso machine with a flourish. Pete, casting Dell a dark look, took back to the counter, his long, lank red curls nearly obscuring his vision. "We set it for May."

Dell nearly dropped the strainer she was emptying. "So soon?"

"I guess I wanted it to happen before I'm either shot again or imprisoned for contempt," Buffy said humorlessly, causing Dell to smile delicately.

"Well, Robbie and I were gonna wait for junior here," she said, turning slightly. It was then that Buffy caught sight of the protruding stomach over Dell's shiny black pants. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you and Mr. Personality will be having buckets of these once you get your inner-feminine on."

"Uh-huh," was all Buffy could think of to say.

"Even though you ditched us for him, you do need to know that we support you," Dell said a moment later as the espresso machine began to tremble and steam. Buffy stared warily at it for a moment before turning back to Dell. "You're our friend. He isn't. Simple as that. Oh, sometimes I wish you'd stayed with—" She immediately cut herself off and looked down, a slight flush appearing on her pale cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "I still have no idea what you're talking about."

Dell chuckled out loud, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder. "You have no idea how lucky you are to forget all that shit."

"I don't feel very lucky at all," Buffy said, very quietly.

"And sometimes I think my foot lives inside my mouth," Dell said apologetically, finishing up the drink and setting it on the counter. After a moment, she leaned forward. "Is Pete behind me?" When Buffy shook her head, she gestured Buffy over to the other end of the counter where mouthwatering pastries were lines behind glass-enclosed cases. A single plate sat on top of the warming unit covering by a shiny cover. "Here, take a blueberry," she said, snatching a napkin and handing it across the glass to Buffy. "They're ten minutes out of the oven. Don't even think about paying for it."

Buffy took a piping hot blueberry scone and her coffee, stepping back. "Thank you."

"If you need anything, ever, you know where to go, right?" Dell asked sharply.

"I won't forget," Buffy smirked, setting her coffee and scone down to pull her glasses over her eyes again. "Thanks for the scone. And I _love _the necklace."

As she left, she heard Dell commenting behind her, "I don't know about that head of hers, but you can't deny her sense of style has gone anywhere."

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 15**

**Save Me Tonight**

x-o-o-x

"Some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change,  
taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next."

- Gilda Radner

x-o-o-x

**Warning: **Actual violence, implied violence and language ahead.

x-o-o-x

It was quite difficult to maneuver the jammed sidewalks and cram a scone into her mouth, but Buffy was one who could do it successfully while maintaining an officer-like appearance, anyway. She was just swallowing the last bit of scone and throwing the paper into the rubbish bin when she heard a voice calling her name behind her. Taking a gulp of hot coffee to take away the last of the scone, she turned to face the person calling her name.

"Hi," a voice said as a figure slipped between two people and stopped at the rubbish bin where Buffy was standing, staring up at him. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she said, forcing herself to look down as she felt the flush creep up her neck. "Just… look at you, looking so… so…"

"It's good to see you, too," Oliver Wood said, moving around the rubbish bin to pull her into an easy hug. She found herself rejecting his touch before she stepped into it. Conflicting thoughts filled her mind but the one that overpowered her was want. She wanted to be in his arms, like it was the most familiar feeling in the world. Clearing her throat, she stepped out of his embrace, planting a smile on her face and gazing up at him.

"Sorry… I guess old habits die hard," Oliver said softly.

Buffy's eyes closed against her will as she felt the guilt start. After trying to push it down, she shrugged. "I guess," she murmured.

"You look good," he replied. "I mean, you were born to wear that uniform."

Buffy started laughing; a refreshing sound that filled her ears so much so she drank her coffee to stop herself from bawling. A moment later, she gasped out as the hot fluid stung her throat. Coughing, she set the coffee aside and pounded on her chest, her head spinning. "Oi, stupid girl," she muttered at herself, doubling over.

She felt him draw nearer, felt his hand on her back. It felt so familiar she couldn't help but moan, raising enough to turn into him. Her hand reached out to touch his blazer before she regretfully stepped away. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, wiping her eyes behind her glasses.

"Ellie, I should be sorry," Oliver said. He was at her side again. "It's just… it shouldn't have to be like this."

"This is what it is, Oliver," she said nervously, taking another step away from him. "You've got to stay away from me."

"Why?" he asked curiously, stepping down from the curb as she rounded the front of her patrol squad. "It didn't stop you before."

"Things changed, Oliver. I'm an engaged woman now. We're getting married." Her heart sank at the look of intense pain that crossed his face. His blue eyes that held so much compassion had filled with tears and looked away. For a moment, they were frozen in a tragic moment, one where she was rejecting him again. "I'm sorry."

"What happened between us, Ellie? You used to be so free, so happy, so… ready for a moment. Why… why did you change so much?"

"Because I grew up," Elise said, opening the door and glancing back at him. "I moved on."

Oliver stared at her for a moment, his eyes swimming before he shrugged and turned away. "You're not the person I thought you were."

"Then who am I?" she found herself shouting at his retreating back.

"You're the future wife of future politician, Cedric Diggory," he replied back in a loud voice.

"Are you so sure about that?" she asked in reply.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before he slowly walked back to where she was standing in the doorway of her vehicle. "Three years ago, I thought we would be together forever," he said quietly, his hand reaching out to remove the sunglasses from her face. Stunned hazel eyes were gazing at him as he handed her the glasses. "But we were living a fantasy. Or, rather, I was living a dream but you were living in hell. When he walked into your life, things that mattered to you before didn't mean anything to you anymore. Your friends and your family became obsolete. I wish I could say it kinder, but forgive me for not wanting to have my still-beating heart ripped out of my chest again."

"I hurt you," she realized with a pang. At seeing the emotions spread across his face, she resisted the urge to touch him, to comfort him. All she wanted to do was make that hurt go away, but to do so would be something the future Mrs. Cedric Diggory could never do.

"You were my hero," Oliver finally said, his eyes meetings hers. "I was so proud of you when you put that uniform on for the first time. What would happen to you if your hero disappointed you? I loved you more than I've loved anything in this world and you threw it all away to be with him. I don't really need an explanation. But after three years, I thought we could put the past behind us. I thought we could be friends again."

"I…" For a moment, words failed her. "I can't."

He blinked before turning away. "I understand."

"Please don't," she begged him.

"Why not?"

"Because if you understand, I feel pity. I don't want to hate myself for hurting you."

"Funny," he said coldly, "because you really did enjoy throwing your relationship and your new life in my face time and time again."

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"You know what? Just go… you're on the clock, aren't you?" he asked sharply. At seeing her miserable look, he felt his own guilt overwhelm him as he sighed, spreading his arms apart. "You don't want me as a part of your life? Fine… that I can live with."

"Do you want to know what it is I feel when I see you?" she asked, coming up beside him. "It's so familiar, so welcome, so warm that I just… I remember for a moment that something in my life was pure and happy and I was loved. I don't feel trapped or lost or confused or… I need you not to be here because if you're here, I might make the hugest mistake of my life."

"Elise…"

"No," she said, pushing his hands away as she stormed back to her vehicle. "No." A moment later, she turned back to face him. "If you want to know if I still have feelings for you, my answer is yes." At seeing the look of surprise on his face, she sighed exasperatedly and got back into her vehicle. As she moved to close the door, his arm stopped her progress.

"If you wanted to know if I still had feelings for you," Oliver said, his face just inches from hers, "I would have to say I don't think I could stop having these feelings for you."

"Let me go," she pleaded with him, not wanting to meet his eyes again. "People are watching."

"Yes," he said in a voice of mock cheer, leaning out of the vehicle and slamming the door shut next to her. "Your public is always watching you, Potter. I guess you'd best appease them."

As she reversed her vehicle out of the spot, she felt her body start to convulse. She closed her eyes a moment. Inside, she felt as though a battle was being waged. One was Elise Potter, the cop and fiancé of Cedric Diggory, one of the most respected young men in the political fields. The other part of her remembered a past life with her friends before she was involved with a high-profile crime organization that threatened to destroy the fragile balance of her life.

Part of her wished she could just forget the career and go back to what she knew and loved. But the other half of her realized that she had moved on with Cedric and that the woman inside of her was ready to marry him. Cedric was many things to her, but was he ever proud of her? Oliver had been… he had called her his hero. It was a touching compliment; one only bested by Sirius Black whose life she had saved.

Shaking the confusing thoughts from her mind, she blinked at her radio and quickly called in her status. Even as she drove, answering calls and driving in circles, her mind was perfectly set at bliss. She had to stop thinking about the old life and learn to live with her new one. She couldn't help the fact that she was different than she had been before she was shot. Maybe she was going soft. Maybe she needed to step up and prove there was still a bit of hero left inside of her.

A voice rang out over her radio, taking her attention. Buffy answered the call and turned her vehicle towards the central part of her area. The call was for a security alarm in one of the old government buildings. As she was the closest in the area, she took the call.

"Call if you need assistance," a voice crackled over the radio.

"No problem," Buffy hissed under her breath, turning the corner. The building loomed in the distance. Pulling into a slot near the parking area, she slid from her seat, staring at the building looming before her. It was a routine call, she knew. But there was something almost eerie in the air, as though something evil was lurking unseen. She moved briskly across the street towards the steps of the older building, not missing the sight of Tower 42 behind it.

For a morning in the middle of the week, it seemed quiet. The door opened and closed behind her, the sound echoing through the lobby area. She glanced to the bank entrance but found it dark. She moved curiously to the doors and peered inside but no one seemed to be moving around. She listened for the sound of voices, straining to hear even the sound of someone coughing.

She didn't hear it.

"Odd," she muttered under her breath, pulling out her radio. "This is five-sixty E. Potter," she spoke as she made her way to one of the staircases. With a grand staircase, it divided into two a half level up and swept in a glorious half-circle to the second level. In between the two rotating rotundas was a teardrop-shaped chandelier boasting over a thousand miniature crystal lights. It was one of the things she admired most about this old building down in the financial center of London.

"Go ahead."

Buffy frowned at her radio before doling out her concerns. "Building seems to be abandoned. Can't find the source of the alarm, over."

"The alarm was coming from the offices on the third floor, Potter," the voice replied.

"There's no activity down here, command," Buffy continued as though she hadn't heard the dispatcher on the other end. "The bank area looks deserted. It's all dark." Once again she found herself facing the glass windows overlooking the lobby. Still the bank remained dark, each station thrown into blackness by the lack of interior lighting within. Just the sight of seeing something out of the ordinary was throwing her intuition into a tailspin. "Please advise."

She heard voices talking in the background as another call sounded. As she was about to make the request again, she heard a sharp sound above her. Lowering the radio, she moved backwards lightly, her feet tapping on the ground, her eyes drawn to the second level. A single shadow faded from the wall, disappearing completely. Blinking, she made up her mind and drew out her sidearm. Step by step she made her way up to the second level, never letting her guard down once. Again she was greeted by a silence as eerie as the beginning. She heard voices talking to her from her radio, but she wasn't paying attention. Every step she made was giving her the distinct impression that she shouldn't be here.

On the second level, she discovered why.

"Crap," she muttered, moving to a figure lying on his side. He was a portly man in a security guard's uniform. There was slight reddening on his neck and face, but his hands and feet were tied together. All at once she realized that someone was wrong.

"This is five sixty," she said clearly into her radio. "I have a security guard down. He's unconscious and unresponsive. I request backup units to respond along with medical."

"Backup units dispatched. Medical will be there in six minutes, Potter."

She was barely listening. Her eyes were drawn to another shadow on the far wall. She swallowed hard before lifting the radio to her lips. "I suggest you hurry," she replied before rising and following the shadow. She found herself at another staircase as the shadow slid up the last few steps and out of sight. Cursing her speed, she made her way to the third level. The only sounds she heard were from the street outside. Brilliant sunlight streamed in from large windows, affording a perfect view of the newer constructs around the old district. She stared outside for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the bright light. Just as she was about to move away, she heard another sound down the corridor. Jumping slightly, she held her sidearm and began the slow pace down. She wasn't going to let her guard down. Not even for a second.

Drawing slowly with all the grace of a ballerina, she moved. She kept her eyes swinging instinctively right to left. Her breathing was labored; her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She half-wondered where her backup was considering that something seemed out of place here. Something was terribly wrong and now she was caught up in it.

She turned the corner, facing a set of double doors at the end of the hall. What surprised her was that there seemed to be something on the floor. She moved forward, bending down. Her fingers lightly traced the smears on the floor before she realized, with a sinking sensation, that there were blood trails leading to that room. She got to her feet, preparing to return to the first floor to await backup when a soft click sounded in her left ear.

"Well, well." Buffy felt as though icy fingers of dread were racing down her spine. Then she realized that something was sliding down her spine towards her hips. She found her body perfectly still and, when she felt the pressure release, slowly turned to face her worst nightmare. A tall man in a long, black coat stood there. He held a larger weapon in his hand that he slowly lowered as silvery eyes bored into Buffy's. She felt as though she couldn't breathe. His eyes then dropped to the sidearm held protectively at her side. "Never thought I'd see this day."

"What is this?" she whispered. Hearing footsteps shuffle behind her, she whirled around to see a smaller man in a grey suit standing there with the same type of firearm in his hands. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm afraid it's sorely business," the man said, moving forward to block her exit down the wide corridor. "Although I'm surprised you would come to the rescue on your lonesome."

"Who said anything about rescue?" she asked, barely able to choke the words out. She heard the portly man behind her splutter with laughter until a look from the deadly eyes of the taller man silenced him.

"Lucius, we need to get her inside. It's dangerous to have her outside."

"She's just dangerous to begin with," he said, slowly advancing on Buffy who, for all her training, couldn't seem to move. "You little firecracker… I always knew you'd come in to save the day." A dark light seemed to flash before his eyes as he touched her face with a leather-gloved hand, his eyes slowly checking her up and down. She just stared at him, unwilling to move.

"She's on duty," the portly man said, pulling the radio off of her hip. His eyes lit up when he saw the handcuffs carefully tethered away.

"Hmm… I guess you'll be going off the record then," Lucius said, handing his firearm to the portly man who managed to juggle two weapons that seemed much too large for his stature. "Now, I'll need to have that firearm of yours just so no one worth anything gets hurt." At seeing the determined streak in her eyes, his lips quivered into a smile that didn't reach the seriousness in his eyes. "I'm afraid I'll have to insist."

She heard another click behind her and knew that the portly man had his weapon trained on her. Despite everything she had been taught and trained, she had to believe that trusting this man not to kill her would be the proper thing to do. Without further hesitation, she handed him the firearm.

"See, Peter, she can be pragmatic," Lucius said, his fingers sliding over the weapon as though it were a mere toy. "However, what I think our young friend doesn't realize is that she wasn't invited to our party."

Buffy gasped and turned to Peter, who had a slow, evil smile that grew on his face. Turning back to Lucius and preparing to beg for her life seemed like the last thing that she would ever do. He simply grasped the weapon, lifted it and fired once.

x-o-x

All along the street squads were parking, officers converging on the main entrance. The street was still in shadow from the light, casting darker silhouettes along the eaves of the buildings. Lily Potter moved with the grace of a lioness, her eyes staring at the building her daughter had been sent to. It had been more than five minutes since that last call for help.

Suddenly a gunshot echoed loudly through the streets, followed by a scream.

"Elise?" Lily gasped, feeling as though everything was circling around her as she turned to the older, brick structure. "Elise!"

She felt James come up and throw his arm out to block her progress. "Lily, no!"

But she knew her daughter was inside. Her intuition was screaming at her that Elise was the one in danger, not some innocent person. She felt her partner tugging on her arm and gave up the fight, staring hopelessly at the building, knowing that her eldest daughter was trapped inside.

x-o-x

"You stupid son of a—"

"Language, Potter," Lucius said, a mad gleam in his eye as he glanced at the woman who had fallen to the floor in front of him. As she glanced up, he saw her hazel eyes were full of pain. His fingers reached forward to clasp her jaw, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Peter, put her with the others."

"Right," Peter said, unable to stop his own grin as he reached down and grabbed the younger woman by the hair. She moaned as she was ripped to her feet, stumbling and nearly falling again. Arms tightened around her chest, dragging her to the double doors, a long streak of red left behind by the shot. She could barely walk and yet it had just been a shot to her knee.

Lucius moved to the radar on the ground. Flecks of blood had sprayed across it. He supposed he had been acting silly, just shooting the girl without a reason at all. But this would teach her to mess with them. Taking an envelope from his pocket, he taped it to the radio and turned to the windows. Down below he could see there were other officers gathering like maggots, ready to storm the building.

He'd show them.

He drew his arm and added force behind it. The radio smashed through the window, raining bits of glass onto the street below. He heard voices of alarm and the sound of people running. Moments later, he saw a curious few approaching the object on the ground as though it were a bomb.

Satisfied for the moment, he turned back, ready to set an example of his young apprentice.

With all of the grace of a thundering elephant, Peter pushed into the room, shoving Buffy onto the floor. The woman moaned even as she heard gasps and the sounds of muffled sobs. Lifting her head, she saw that the entire back wall consisted of women who had been bound and gagged, staring at her with passionate, terrified eyes. She wanted to reassure them, but it was difficult, especially with Peter waving his gun around and laughing. Moments later, she felt those sticky fingers grasping her hair as her body lifted painfully. She collided with a wall, tears springing to her eyes as she fell again to the floor. Twisting her body to better support her wounded leg, she glared up at the man who simply smirked at her, stroking his weapon with the simple message he would kill her if provoked.

"Well, this was certainly unexpected."

Buffy eyed a tall, dark-haired beauty as she strode into the room. Dressed in civilian attire, she appeared haughty and inconspicuous given Peter's grey suit and Lucius's all-black apparel.

"We had to take her in," Lucius told the woman apologetically, handing her the officer's sidearm. The woman's lips twisted into a painful smile as she lifted the weapon.

"That doesn't mean you had to shoot her," she said quietly. Seconds later, the women all gasped behind their gags as she turned on the man, backhanding him so hard that he stumbled and fell backwards into the doors that Peter was trying to nail shut. Clearing her throat, she tossed the weapon aside and moved to where Buffy was leaning on the floor, trying to keep from passing out. "Hi, Elise. Long time, no see." Soft fingers reached down to take her hand. She seemed to think better of it, though, and went for her throat instead. Buffy found herself gasping as the woman dragged her to her knees. "But you should have kept your no-good brown-nosing cop's nose out of it. Because now, little girl, you're going to pay for the deception."

"What?" Buffy managed to choke out.

"God, no!" a voice cried from the other end of the room. The woman turned, her dark eyes sending a sharp glare to two other men guarding the other exits. The woman had managed to wear her gag down to her chin. In that instant, Buffy realized she was looking at Cedric's mother. "Leave her alone!"

"What did I tell you people would happen if you spoke out of turn?" the woman asked, glaring at one of the men. He stepped forward, raising his weapon to strike the woman who stared back at the dark-haired one, no hint of fear in her eyes.

"Don't hurt her," a voice begged beneath her. The dark-haired woman turned and saw the blonde she was throttling staring at her, compassion burning brightly in her hazel eyes. "Please, don't hurt her."

The woman stared at her a moment before throwing the woman back into the wall. Buffy gasped for breath and massaged her throat with blood-caked hands. "Guard!" the woman shrieked. The man strode towards her, holding a nightstick in his hands.

"Bella," he acknowledged quietly.

Without permission she seized the weapon and turned to the blonde on the floor. "Have I ever told you what I'd do to little blondes who didn't play nice anymore?"

"Have I ever told you to go screw yourself?" Buffy challenged.

The woman laughed; a cold harsh sound despite her arrogant features. The sound instantly disappeared as she brought the weapon down, striking the woman on the back of the neck. She heard the woman scream behind her, but she didn't care. The body bounced on the floor. Kicking Potter's body over onto her back, she bent down and smashed the cold metal into the woman's abdomen and rose back up, watching as the woman writhed and moaned on the floor in front of her. Handing the weapon back to the guard, she turned compassionless eyes to the woman who stared at her defiantly with no uncertain amount of disgust flashing in her dark eyes.

"Denise, is it?" she asked quietly, advancing on the woman as though she were prey. "See, the whole advantage to you being my prisoner means that when you get hit, and you _will _get hit, that means you die. When we start beating on our own, it means she gets to live. To trade that, well, I could _kill _her…" A nasty smile spread across her face as dumbstruck horror filled the other woman's expression. "But I don't want to. Yet."

"Denise…"

Mrs. Diggory closed her eyes, trying to block out the pained gasps and the small voice calling her name. This was the same woman she was proud to soon call her daughter-in-law.

"Besides, don't you think the truth can really set you free?" Bella asked, almost skipping back to the woman. Buffy had managed to pull herself up. Trickles of blood worked their way across her face from where she'd been hit. Blood flowed from the wound to her leg. But the thing that hadn't changed was the sharp glare that met her own eyes. "You know, Ellie," she said, getting down to her knees and leaning closer, her lips brushing against the younger woman's ear, "you could really do well for yourself. You've always wanted to be part of something… _bigger_… than that little freak show you call a daily job. If you make it through this, you might even get promoted… to Peter's place."

The portly man spun around from where he had been barricading the door. "What?"

"But the thing is, you have to _really _want it," Bella whispered seductively, pulling back. Her icy hands met Buffy's flushed face, her fingertips wiping away pained tears. Her eyes blinked as her face drew closer to the younger woman's. "You have to want bad enough to take it. That means getting rid of the old and taking in the new." Her lips curved upwards as her fingertips moved over bruised skin. Finding the mark she was looking for, she pressed hard on the pressure points, causing the woman to cry out. As she moved to protect herself, Bella laughed as she staggered back to her feet. Her eyes turned to her audience who stared, captivated. Denise Diggory sat against the wall, her hands bound over her bent knees, staring transfixed at the exchange.

"Elise, do you know her?" Denise asked in an agonized whisper.

Bella's eyes danced as she glanced down at the wounded woman, a long scarlet nail suddenly pointing at the figure that froze and became rigid, guilt filling every line in her face. "Your public wants to know, dear Liza," she cackled.

Elise took in the frightened looks from the other women; Denise's included, and made herself promise that no matter what happened the truth would never be free. Lucius or Bella could reveal it, but the truth wouldn't stand until she spoke it. Shaking her head, she met Bella's eyes and whispered, "Never."

Bella let out a shriek of rage and darted across the room. Seizing the firearm Peter was now recovering, she aimed it back to the blonde. "The truth."

The corner of Buffy's mouth lifted up as mocking eyes met psychotic. "You'll have to kill me, first."

The safety clicked off as Bella lifted her aim. "Not a problem, girl."

x-o-x

Two dozen officers milled around a single van where Sergeant McGonagall and their staff Lieutenant Albin stood waiting for news from their special operations team. "Ten minutes," Sergeant McGonagall announced to the group at whole before tucking herself back into the safety of their command vehicle. Moments later, Lily Potter appeared red-faced and breathless. "You got something, Potter?"

"I want to be on the line."

Sergeant McGonagall glanced up, cold emerald eyes matching a set of eyes that held more depth and warmth than their own. "I can't risk you, Potter."

"But you'll put my husband on the line?" Lily asked in disbelief. "I don't think so. I've got the seniority; I should be on the line."

"She has a point, Minnie," the Lieutenant said, throwing down his glasses and flinging his hands up impatiently. "She's got the skills."

"It's far too dangerous," the Sergeant replied sharply, sending the older man a dark, patronizing look. "You saw the letter. If anyone breaches the doors, they'll start killing off hostages. That I won't take to. If we even attempt to rescue her, they'll kill _her._" Eyes lit up as James appeared over Lily's shoulder, his eyes wearing a slightly hazed look. "Get out of here. I'll put my own teams together, thanks."

Lily sniffed and walked out, her back rigid with dignity. As she left, James turned to Sergeant McGonagall. His tone was low and accusing. "It's them, isn't it?"

"As far as we know, yes," Sergeant McGonagall whispered in a deadened voice.

"You knew this was going to happen. You were just waiting for _it _to happen."

"I thought I told you to keep the truth to yourself," the Sergeant spat out, rising and facing him. Despite the fact she was a few inches shorter than him, she more than made up for it with her glower. "Now get outside and act like a man, James. Don't come in here making demands that you know I can't answer to. Give me ten minutes and then we'll come up with something." As he hesitated, her eyes grew more impatient. "I gave you an order, _Detective._ Now go, dismissed!"

x-o-x

The seconds seemed to tick by, one by one. Each minute was secured in eternity. Hazy eyes blurred with pain stared at the faces peering down at her with concern. After refusing to comply and tell the others the truth about why she knew them, Bella had taken one shot, firing at her abdomen. The bitch had known exactly where to hit her. She felt a cold hand pressed down over the wound but couldn't hide the pain. She had let Peter take a turn then. The women against the wall had closed their eyes and willed the sounds away as the young officer shrieked. Peter had been cold but resolute with her, throwing her around until, at last, she had passed out. Maybe it was because he had smashed her head into a cabinet where the fire extinguisher was kept. As she was unconscious, Peter had flung her unceremoniously into their waiting arms. After freeing her hands, Denise had taken Elise under her protection, almost daring to believe that what Elise was doing she was doing for them.

Bella kept pacing the room, her muttering becoming more and more erratic. Lucius sat on a black leather chair looking rather amused at the proceedings. Peter wore a feral grin that made half of the women nauseous especially considering the way he had treated poor Elise. The two guards walked back and forth, their cold eyes letting them know in no uncertain terms if they attempted to get help they would suffer the punishment.

The ticking sounds came back to her as she felt her head roll around in a comforting lap. Soft hands moved over her face. A gentle slap opened her eyes which focused wearily on the face hovering a foot above hers.

"She's alive."

Bella stopped her pacing, her features alive with a dangerous, near demonic glow. "Let her go."

"She won't play these games with you," Denise said, hugging the younger woman to her protectively. "I promise we won't testify in court, but torturing an officer of the law is—"

The glass panel over her head suddenly exploded; the women around her screamed as they covered their heads, glass raining down upon them. Lucius slowly lowered his own firearm, setting a glass aside. Exchanging a cold look with the smirking Bella, he made his way over to the group of women clustered protectively around the younger one. "Move."

When Denise refused his request, she found herself with a sidearm aimed between the eyes. The women around her moaned, begging her to step back. But Denise stared into Lucius's cold grey eyes, her jaw set and determined. "Screw you."

"Perhaps," he said humorlessly. He turned to leave but his movements were quick and graceful. Moments later, Denise was on her back clutching her face as Buffy was once again dragged away from her by her injured leg. Her screams of pain filled the small room as Denise sat up, gasping, "You stupid son of a bitch, let her go!"

"I don't think so," he said, yanking the wounded woman to his side and looking down at her, as though undressing her with his eyes. "Obviously she feels she can withstand whatever we give her in kindness."

"If you touch her again, I'll kill you," Denise hissed, struggling against the other women holding her back.

"Hmm," Lucius said, silver eyes narrowing as he surveyed the woman struggling to get away from him. A seductive hand smoothed blood-tainted hair from her face. Bella watched the exchange, fascinated. Peter's eager grin was swallowing his face. "I suppose that means I probably should not have _touched _her before."

Denise gasped as Buffy took a step away from him, desperate to get away from these lecherous men. But the hand caught the back of her hair as he bent down, his face hovering inches above hers. Though she glared up at him with as much fire as she could muster, she could feel her injured leg giving away. She felt blood oozing from the gunshot to her side. His hand tightened as his lips made contact with the skin along her neck. Pure ice touched her, seeping in her veins as she used the one defense she had left. Lifting her uninjured leg, she jammed it into the man's pelvis. He cursed and flung her back, Buffy's body falling heavily to the floor. Denise's eyes wore a triumphant look and even the injured woman started laughing mockingly at them as Lucius stumbled backwards. Bella roared and stormed towards the woman, her hands raised in the air.

"You will pay for that one, killer," Bella said wickedly, slapping the girl across the face. Derisive eyes stared back at her. Stepping back, the two guards appeared over her shoulder. "Give it to her," she whispered sweetly, seeing the glare deepen. "Tell her that she's not the one that gives orders around here."

Denise could only helplessly watch as the two men attacked the young officer. She turned her face away, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her only saving grace was that her son wasn't there to witness his fiancée's torture.

"Stop!"

Denise gasped and turned towards the young woman. The two men were drawing back, looking disappointed.

"You want the truth?" a voice rasped out. She saw Buffy pulling herself up despite being shot and beaten. Her bloodied face held no love for these people as she eyed them, deepest hatred flashing from eyes that shone with fire. "I'll tell them the fucking truth."

How could she ever think she could survive this? These people were monsters! And her boss, for putting her there? What sort of twisted old bat was McGonagall? She would never forgive the old woman, never! If she lived to survive this, she could only imagine the pure delight at telling her lovely superiors to go piss themselves.

"Well, Potter?" Bella asked, lifting the sidearm and aiming it directly at her. "We're waiting."

x-o-x

As the teams stormed the building, silent footsteps rushed to the second level. Keeping her firearm trained above her, Lily Potter made her way to the next step. Her partner was a step below her on her hip, but her eyes never left the walk ahead of her. The officers fanned out, those carrying the larger weapons moving forward and signaling the normal street officers on. Lily and her partner Andy ran to one of the corridors and looked across. The remains of the window that had been shattered hours earlier remained with most of the glass littering the marble tile. Cocking her head on, Andy moved across and lifted her firearm, aiming it down the hall. She signaled Lily across and they headed on.

James and Sirius moved along towards the staircase leading to the third level. The first team that reached it was already halfway up, signaling for them to follow. Lily and Andy were next and soon four teams spilled onto the next level. The wide corridor ended with a set of double doors. There was a streak of blood on the floor in front of them and one near the doors themselves.

James made the motion for Lily and Andy to take the door to the right. They would take the back route, knowing there was another set of offices with a smaller room that was just off the main conference room. James and Sirius motioned for another team to take the straight angle. As more teams joined them, they all began moving forward.

Lily knew that her daughter was slipping away. She could hear Elise crying for her deep in her mind. She felt sickened, quite aware of what they were doing to her precious girl. If they survived it, Lily would force it back on them ten-fold. But she had to find her precious Elise first.

She had never felt more helpless than she did now.

x-o-x

Before Lucius could pull the trigger, Bella was back playing with her toy. He watched the other woman in irritation as she literally circled around the younger woman, her hands sliding down her narrow frame as mocking eyes ridiculed her. "She tastes like honey, doesn't she?" Bella asked Lucius with a wicked smile. The man was slow to hide the sneer that flickered on his face, especially at seeing the younger girl wince. "I wonder what your blood tastes like."

Buffy stared at the gun seconds away from ending her life. "They told me to help you," she said softly, enjoying the way her voice offset the normally unflappable man. She didn't care anymore whether or not she lived through this. She knew that she was dead anyway. It was time to go out with some finesse. "So I did. And I fed it all back to them. Did you really think this was about my _loyalty _to you? This was never about you. And you fall for it every single time!"

Lucius shouted out in his rage as he shot again.

This time, the bullet didn't miss its mark.

x-o-x

Lily was standing next to a sealed door when she heard the sound of another gunshot and women screaming. Unable to wait for the others to signal her, she smashed the door open with brute force, Andy tromping in behind her. The room was empty save a few bound and gagged hostages underneath a conference table. Andy turned as another team followed them in. "Get 'em out," she said, pushing the younger ones away. "Hurry!"

Lily moved to the next door which was unlocked. As she opened it, she found a snarling face on the other side. Closing the door slightly, she wedged it open, throwing the guard off-balance. As he staggered, she used her strength, kicking him across the chest and, when he landed on the ground, landing a blow to the back of his head to render him unconscious. Andy leapt over his prone form as more bodies seemed to peel from the woodwork. Lily noticed one of them immediately and stopped him, reaching up to remove his gag. "Cedric." He turned helpless eyes on her. She half-wondered if he knew that the woman being abused just sixty feet away was the woman he was about to spend the rest of his life with.

There was another banging sound and then she heard the barrage of gunfire. "Get down!" she told Cedric, pushing him away from the door. This one she kicked too and found herself inside another room. Eight women were crowded in a corner, sobbing. Two more had flung themselves over a pool of blood. At seeing a guard come towards her, Andy suddenly leapt out firing. James and Sirius were wrestling a second guard to the ground. A woman was lying on the ground as another office stood over her, his weapon drawn and aimed at the woman's head.

But Lily was distracted by the two women pulling themselves off of someone who was convulsing…

She heard James yelling her name but she found her legs moving to her daughter anyway. She heard her own scream of alarm and horror as she saw her daughter's blackened, bloodied face. "JAMES!" she shrieked, her voice rising in her angst. "James…"

"Officer down, officer down, I repeat we have an officer down. Request medical immediately, I repeat, we request medical immediately," Andy shouted into her own radio, staring down at Lily who was ripping off her jacket, shoving it underneath her daughter's head. Buffy's eyes were rolling in the back of her head. A thin stream of blood ran from her mouth. A tiny moan escaped from her lips as Lily shook her. She heard her mother yelling something, but she couldn't wrap her mind around the frantic words. Warm hands pressed against the gush of blood from her chest, but she could no longer feel any pain.

James and Sirius watched as Lily and Andy did what they could. Cedric, despite the fact an officer was trying to drag him out, appeared suddenly in the doorway. At seeing his mother's bloodstained clothing and her defeated expression, he had but to turn his head before…

"ELISE!!!"

James and Sirius both moved to stop Cedric, but the young man fought valiantly against them. Buffy's lips, though choking up blood, barely registered him with the slightest hint of a smile. "Ced…" she groaned once as she passed out, her head lolling to the side. Lily gave Andy an alarmed look as her partner got back on the radio, demanding to know where their medical unit was. As Cedric boldly fought, Lily gave the orders to have them all removed from the room.

Down on a street thrown towards darkness, a public waited. They had heard the building had come under duress. Their worst fears were confirmed as wailing sirens drew closer. A steady stream of bodies were exiting the building now, clutching blankets and wearing haunted expressions.

Minutes after the ambulance crew had gone inside, they came back out. A female officer was running beside the stretcher as one of the medics was shouting out statistics. Once the stretcher had cleared the stairs, the woman in the bloodstained clothing leapt onto the stretcher, straddling the patient.

Dell attempted to move closer, her eyes narrowed to the blinding spotlights shining up in the evening glow. She heard a gasp and saw another young woman lift a startled hand to her lips, her eyes paralyzed with shock. Dell turned her head to see the figure as she was pushed into the waiting vehicle. It was in this moment she caught sight of the blonde hair and recognized the officer being peeled from the stretcher.

"Oh, God," she moaned, pushing past the young woman and running to the front. Moments later, she heard the sound of a man yelling. She leapt out of the way as a young man raced towards the officer, his inaudible shouts mingling with her quiet replies. This was not the handsome young politician Dell knew about. Her lips curved into a sneer as she saw his wild expressions that gave her the distinct impression he was falling apart at the seams. His pants were wrinkled and his coat was unbuttoned, flapping open wide as he demanded to know where his lovely young fiancée was being taken.

"No," a soft voice murmured behind her. Dell turned and saw a young man step up to where the young woman was crying softly into her fist. Stunned blue eyes met her dark and she gave him a slight nod as he went to take care of his friend.

A surreal calm followed despite the fact there were hundreds of people gathered in the street and square.

x-o-x

Lily Potter knew that it was this moment that counted high above all others. She knew these moments would define her.

Many would speak of her character as being capable, determined and cautious. But the moment she had seen her defeated daughter, she had become another body entirely. Her sharp mind was focused on saving her baby girl's life.

The entire ride was agony. She knew that Elise was dying but her mind refused to accept it. She had lost too much blood. The shot to the chest may have hit her lungs which were slowly filling with fluid, ensuring her daughter a most painful death.

She closed her eyes against the alarm bells ringing in her head. Bloodied hands pressed into her eyes as she attempted to suppress her own moans. She heard her radio chirp as voices attempted to reach out for her, but she just let it sit there on the edge of the seat. She had no patience for them now.

As the doors opened, revealing a deepening London skyline and a darker sky ahead, Lily hopped down, helping the medics remove the stretcher. Even as the next few hours blurred together, she never lost focus on the one thing that mattered most to her.

"Lily?"

She was sitting in one of the waiting areas, a small area off of the intensive care unit. She reached an exhausted hand to her husband, who grasped it and hauled her to her feet. She welcomed the warmth of his arms as she buried her face in his shoulder. Her mind was too numb even for tears, too blank to even form words. She heard him murmuring into her neck but she couldn't process it.

"I sent Andy to get Harry and Dawn," James said, pulling away from her at last. As he did, he winced at Lily's appearance. She was in her t-shirt covered in blood. Dried blood was caked on her cheek and on her arms and hands, but she made no move to clean up. "I think the family should be together."

"I think I'm living in a nightmare," Lily said in a shaky voice. "Everything's the same."

"No, no, no," James said, rubbing her arms soothingly. "Lily, look at me. We are not going to lose her, not again."

"You don't know that," she whispered, pained.

"No, I don't know that," James said, watching the tears glisten in Lily's eyes as she looked away. "But I do know I have faith she can get herself through this."

"How in the hell is she supposed to get through this?" Lily asked, brushing angry tears away from her cheeks. "James, they tortured her. They mutilated her. They violated—" Before she could continue, he swept her into his arms, offering what little comfort he knew how to give. As she angrily slammed her fists into his back, he allowed himself to be her sounding board, someone that she could vent to in times of trouble.

"Excuse me, Detectives?"

Lily took a deep, shuddering breath as she pulled back from James, blinking into the sharp lights at their Sergeant marching in. "Sergeant McGonagall," James said, giving her a respective nod. The older woman sighed and leaned against the frame, folding her arms tightly against her chest.

"Have you any word?"

"Not since they took her into surgery," James replied. "That was almost three hours ago."

"Though you are both still on duty, I feel it futile to order you away from the premises," McGonagall said sternly, glancing at both officers. "But I do expect you to work in order to keep your minds occupied instead of focusing on the worst-case scenario. Now, Andromeda was sent to pick up your children?" At their nods, she continued. "Lily, there are two witnesses that still need to be questioned regarding today's events. As you are an interrogator, I trust your skills are still handy for us. James, they just brought the suspects into a protected ward to treat them for their injuries before they are brought to the prison." At these words, Lily took a dangerous step forward. James quickly pulled her back, glancing apologetically at Sergeant McGonagall who appeared that she hadn't noticed. "When they are released, you are to provide extra security for their safe transport off the premises."

"They don't need safe transport," Lily snarled. "Did you see what they did to my daughter?"

"Yes, Potter, I saw," McGonagall said quietly. "But these things must be done legally."

"I should have shot him myself," Lily said, yanking her arm from James' and glaring at her husband. Snatching her bag from the sofa, she stormed out of the room.

As she left, James felt McGonagall's eyes turn to ice. "If you do anything to endanger them…"

"I'm no fool," James uttered, feeling his own hazel eyes burn with suppressed emotion, "but how do you expect me to protect the same bastards who just attempted to murder my child?"

"Because it's your job, Potter," McGonagall said coldly. "It's what you do."

James sighed as he affirmed his orders, leaving the waiting area and heading off. Sympathetic eyes were on him wherever he walked. He knew that they were all thinking the exact same thing – their daughter, the newest star on the force and the pride of her parents – was going to die. And there was nothing he could do about it.

x-o-x

Lily had just returned to the sitting area when she heard a voice shout, "Mum!"

Lily turned to see Harry and Dawn walk in, followed by Andy. Mouthing a silent thanks to her friend and partner, she walked over and swept both of her younger children into her arms. "My babies," she moaned, pressing her cheek into her taller son's hair. "My beautiful, beautiful babies."

"Mum," Dawn moaned, pushing herself back. "Gross."

Attempting a smile, Lily smoothed her daughter's hair back and looked over at her son. "Did Andy tell you?"

"Tell us what?" Harry asked, confused. "We were just told to get to the hospital. Andy said it was some sort of emergency."

"It's your sister," Lily said, feeling her eyes drawn to the ground.

"Not again," Dawn moaned, running a hand through her hair. "If she keeps doing this, she's going to get herself into—"

"Dawn, shut up," Harry said, holding his hand up to stop Dawn in mid-rant. She stopped, her jaw snapping shut. Hurt eyes stared at her brother before drifting back to their mother. "What happened?"

"They…" Lily found she suddenly couldn't tell them. No innocent should ever have to learn what happened to her daughter. "She…"

"She was shot," a different voice said from the doorway. Sirius Black tucked inside the room. Lily's eyes turned distinctly colder as she eyed the other man. "Shot and tortured. All in a day's work for your sister, eh?"

"What?" Dawn and Harry gasped in unison.

Sirius turned his attention over to Lily. "They just took her out of surgery. I'll be standing guard over her till midnight. My replacement should be on duty by then."

"Thank you," Lily replied, giving him what she hoped would be a smile. She knew it was more of a grimace though as she looked away.

"Mom, that blood… is it hers?"

Lily nodded, not trusting herself to look at her son. Hearing the sudden intake of his breath, she felt his arms swept around her and allowed herself to wallow for a moment before he pulled away, only to be replaced by Dawn. James walked in on the touching scene, smiling at his wife and two younger children wrapped together in a hug that swelled with emotion. Blinking back tears, he looked out in the hallway where he was met by McGonagall's frosty gaze.

"Did they make it out?" she asked sharply.

James figured that she didn't know Lily was done with her statements and wasn't in the room. "I'm done. They're out. One… didn't make it. The other seven did."

"They'll be facing quite the predicament come morning," McGonagall said with satisfaction. "Your daughter played the exact role we wished her to within their organization."

"She…" James stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You… you played her?"

"She knew what was involved, Potter," McGonagall said coolly. "She knew exactly what she was doing."

"The hell she did!" James spluttered. "For God's sake, Minerva, she was shot. And tortured and God only knows what else they did to her!"

"There is always risk involved," McGonagall replied, rising to her full stature and marching towards James, fire shining in her green eyes. "Don't you dare think that we didn't have her best intentions set. But she knew when she went in there that that group was trouble and she didn't refuse our request."

"How could she?" James asked blankly. "You had her cornered. She didn't have a choice!"

"There is always a choice, isn't there James? For example, you have a choice right now. We are not discussing this here in this public forum. If you do, your choice would be to hand me your badge and gun because I won't have loose lips on my force. You play by my rules or you get the hell out of my way." Giving him her chilliest look yet, McGonagall stormed down the corridor, leaving breathless medical staff in her wake.

James was still trying to wrap his mind around what idle threats his sergeant had just made when he walked back in the waiting area. He wasn't in there for more than a minute before something hard slammed against the side of his head. He realized then that Lily had just smacked him.

"You…"

Her turned and saw a gaze that could melt lava. His stomach churned at the fury etched in every line of her face. Her lips were twisted into such a vicious snarl that, for the first time, he felt afraid of his wife. "Lily, please…"

"You knew all along that she was working for them?" she asked, her voice rising to a feverish pitch. Before he could defend himself, she was smacking his arms, sending him backing to the wall. "You knew that she was risking her life just so we could catch them? That is our daughter!! You sacrificed our daughter's life for some petty thieves?"

"Lily, wait—"

"No, you wait," she shouted back, adding a slap to his chest for good measure. "You stupid, stupid man. How… how can you live with yourself knowing what you did?"

"What I did?" he asked, confused. "Lily, I didn't do—"

"We never keep anything from each other," she snarled. "We never keep secrets but here they are. These secrets, these lies are tearing our family apart. Don't you see it? Can't you feel it? Everything is falling apart. And you could have done something. You could have stood up for your daughter if she was so… so cornered, but no… you had to act like a coward. Because of your ignorance, our daughter is going to die."

"She knew what she was doing," James attempted, but Lily just roared furiously at this and stormed to the doorway.

"Harry! Dawn!"

At seeing the betrayed looks on his children's faces as they walked to his wife, he felt as though something inside of him was clenching so painfully he was unable to breathe.

"If she dies… its over," Lily said, her molten gaze pinning him to the wall. "If you can't even speak up for your daughter, what makes you think you will do anything for us? She saved your best friend's damned life! I thought that used to count for something. But you… you hid this from me, from us. To protect her. But when she needed us the most, where were you? You ignored her calls for help. If she dies, I don't think I could stand to look at you."

Even as James attempted to defend himself, Lily stormed from the room.

"Dad," Dawn whispered, shaking her head, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Moments later, she streaked after her mother.

"How could you do this to Elise?" Harry asked his father quietly. "After everything she's ever done for us… she would never have done this to you. How ungodly selfish are you?"

James could only watch as his family swept out of the door. Feeling vaguely empty, he peeled himself from the wall, rubbing his arms. Then, taking a deep breath, he moved off.

x-o-x

A rhythmic beep was the only sound in young Elise's hospital room. Sirius Black stood outside the paned glass overlooking her room, but he was the only one. The doctors were letting her body rest after working to remove the bullet they had pulled from her lung. Her broken, battered face was still. The only movement she made was from the respirator keeping her alive. Her chest moved up and down with the steady hum of the machinery around her. From what Sirius had been told, she was in a coma.

But even as she rested, she felt out of mind and out of body. Her head twisted around, taking in the whitewashed walls and the somber expressions of everyone that stared at her through the glass. "They look so sad," she murmured.

A gentle hand reached out to cover hers, rough fingers sliding over smooth, pale skin. "They're afraid."

"They don't want me to die," she whispered, looking at the figure. She was comforted to see Cedric sitting in the chair next to her. He turned to smile at her. At seeing only a vaguely familiar face, she gasped and pulled her hand back. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Cedric Diggory," he replied with a kind smile, reaching down to place a comforting hand on her arm. "The real Cedric Diggory."

"What do you mean, the real—"

"Do you really think that I could be that brainless?" he asked, cocking his head towards the older version. Cedric the elder was standing at the door, staring in with a pensive look on his handsome face. A minute later, he turned away.

"But why are you here?"

"Just think of me as an echo of the person you know," Cedric replied. "And you were right. They're afraid that you are going to die. Can't say I blame them myself. You took quite a hit."

"It really hurts," Buffy moaned, shifting her body uneasily. "Everything feels so fuzzy."

Cedric's eyes were sad as he looked away. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"I know," Buffy said in a small, sad voice. "We were going to get married and live a perfect life. I was finally going to get everything I ever wanted…"

"No, you weren't."

Buffy turned her head sharply to the left. A pair of familiar green eyes stared down at her. A gentle hand moved down to touch her cheek as the woman's pretty face broke into a smile. "There you are, my precious."

"Mom?"

Lily Potter smiled down at her daughter. "You're really there. We've been trying to find you."

"Why? I've been here all this time," Buffy said, confused.

"No, you haven't," Cedric said, finally releasing her arm. Lily sat on the edge of the bed, taking her daughter's hand.

"I… I don't understand…"

"You don't have to understand," Lily replied softly. "There isn't much time left."

"I know. I'm dying."

"In more ways than one," a baritone voice chided in. Buffy's eyes went to look at a younger version of her father. At seeing her confusion, he added, "Yes, we're really here. Yes, this is really us."

"I so don't get—"

"You don't have to understand," Lily repeated, taking Buffy's face and directing her gaze to back. "But you need to know something. That man and that woman are not your parents."

"Uh… huh?"

"It's not real. None of it. It's all fake. It's all an illusion," James said impatiently.

Buffy gazed at all three faces staring at her so seriously over her own wilted body. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you remember of your life before they said you were shot?" Lily asked quietly. At seeing Buffy's blank look, she suddenly smiled. "Don't you see? There wasn't anything to remember. Because this isn't real. How can this be real when you can't remember your life?"

"I was shot."

"Yes, that much of it was true," James replied, sitting down next to his wife and placing a hand over her waist. "You were shot… in the abdomen."

"In the head," she said in a forceful voice, feeling uneasy as her parents exchanged a look.

"Buffy, listen to us, please," Lily implored. "There is much more that—"

"What?" she asked suddenly, looking back at her mother. "What did you just call me?"

"It's your name," James replied. "Don't you remember?"

"Buffy's my name?"

"Yes," Cedric said. He was standing in front of Sirius now, staring out at all of the hurried activity in the hospital. "Hmm. You'd think that they'd be more concerned with your life instead of just allowing you to die. They're just waiting for you to snuff it."

Buffy took a moment to realize that it was true. They had willingly sacrificed her in order to flush out the criminal organization. If she died, she would never be a liability to them again. But the other part that was bugging her was her name. "My name is Elise."

"Cute name, but it's not you. This… this shell isn't you," Lily moaned, staring at the body with a grimace of disgust. "This isn't you. You never, ever would have let those men touch you. You're a lot stronger than that. You're supposed to be the Slayer."

"A what?"

"Oh, here we go," James groaned, clasping a hand to his face.

"Buffy, listen to me," Cedric said, appearing suddenly at her side. "Please listen, because there isn't a lot of time. You are a Slayer which makes you the strongest woman on Earth. You're not someone that needs protection. You're not someone that's about to sit by and die like this. There is a better world out there, a stronger world that wants you back in it."

"You can live in that world," Buffy said coldly, staring up at his resolute face. "I have to live in this one."

"No, you don't," Cedric replied angrily. "This isn't your life. Your life was stolen from you, ripped away by those that want you dead. You don't stand a chance here, but where you really are, they're counting on you to die."

"And isn't that the first cardinal rule of slaying?" her father asked. "Don't die?"

"I… I don't know what a Slayer even is…" Buffy said, her tone pleading.

"A Slayer is strength and power and wisdom and magic and love and bleeding and death and everything that comes with it," Lily replied sharply. "It's only your life. Who are we to tell you how to live your life?"

"Or die from it," James replied.

Buffy knew that she was dead. She didn't stand a chance. There wasn't anything left to fight for, except their pity. Turning back to her parents, she asked quietly, "What am I supposed to do in that world? Will you be there to guide me?"

There was a pause as James and Lily exchanged an uncomfortable look.

"We can't be with you," Cedric said in a muffled voice. It was then she noticed the grief in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"We've been dead for sixteen years," Lily said, hating herself as she watched her daughter's face crumple. "Cedric has been dead almost three."

"You mean you're not real?" Buffy asked, turning to look at the young man she had sworn her life and soul to. He just smiled sadly at her, his hand lingering on her cold cheek.

"We never met in my world," he said softly. "I was dead for over a year when you met your brother."

"Harry?"

Lily nodded painfully at the break in Buffy's voice. "He needs you now. He needs you so much. You see… you're the only family he has left. How would it look to your poor brother if you gave up on him to die in a world that was so willing to let you go?"

"But you…"

"We died for him," James said proudly. "We don't regret it. We gave our lives for him. We knew the cost. But this price… this price is too high."

"We begged to be able to come here and talk you back," Lily moaned, tears openly raining down her pale face. "We knew that you could never have made it out on your own. This life… this nightmarish dream reality… it was never yours."

"I…"

"Your brother isn't the only one that needs you, Buff," James said, folding his arms. "What about your friends?"

"What about Oliver?"

"What?" Buffy gasped, turning to look at Cedric. "You mean he's… he's real?"

"Of course he's real," Cedric replied as, for the first time, Buffy smiled. "Something remained from your old life, some old feelings for him. You love him, even if you try to convince yourself you don't. But you were willing to give that up here."

"You gave up everything and got nothing in return," Lily said flatly.

"But you don't have to give up now," James said stoutly.

"What… what will it be like?"

There was another uncomfortable glance between her parents. "We won't lie to you," Lily said in a low voice. "Life there is difficult. There is a war between those that are good and those that are evil. The battle isn't going very well. The only hope in our world is Harry."

"Are you willing to let your brother fight alone? Or are you going to give him another reason to never stop fighting?"

Buffy was at a loss for words. Before this, she never would have thought that another reality existed. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized how out of place she seemed here. Everyone was plotting against her, just waiting for her to leave. It was almost as if they would have rather she stayed dead after being shot in the head…

She knew the difficult questions were yet to come. "How…?"

There were people shouting outside now. She vaguely heard an erratic beep but paid no heed to it. "Your real body is dying. You were shot and poisoned which has kept you here. We've been trying to reach you, trying to get you out but until now…"

"Your mind is finally weakening," Cedric added with no small amount of satisfaction.

"I'm… so lost."

"We're here to show you the way back," Lily said hopefully. "We're here to bring you home."

"Because we, your parents, will never give up on you," James said, his voice quavering. "Your friends didn't give up on you, either."

"But things have changed for them," Lily said softly, resting her hand on her daughter's arm. "Things are harder now. The war is coming to a head. People have died. And more people will."

"What can I do to help?"

"You're the hero, Buffy. You tell us what you want to do. It's your choice."

There was a stern resolution in her heart. There was something almost poetic about her parents being here, consoling her just moments before her death. For all she knew, she was already dead and this was their ironic version of heaven. But the other half of her wanted to trust them. She wanted to do something. She couldn't lie here and wait to die. She couldn't wait for nothingness. She was going to find something to hold onto.

Even if it was a promise made by three dead people.

"Mommy?" Why was it so much harder to breathe now? Why did it hurt to keep her eyes open? She vaguely saw motion behind her parents, but it was getting so dark. "It's so dark."

"We're here, Buffy," James said, his voice distant. "We're here. We're not going to leave you."

"No…"

"I wish I would have met you," came Cedric's dreamy, far-off tone. "I know I would have loved you."

"Not you…"

"Sweetheart, you're ready." Her mother's voice sounded close. She felt warm hands on her cold face. As she struggled to breathe, she gazed into those emerald eyes, clinging to a hope that she would exist beyond tomorrow. "It's time to let go. You're ready… let go… let… go…"

As darkness overtook her, she felt strangely calm. She half-expected to be swept off into some dark abyss and rest there. Instead, she felt as though she were falling through memories. She felt like screaming but she had no physical voice to cry out. Her eyes pleaded with her to open, but there was no strength left in her.

At long last, she felt as though she returned to a piece of her that lay forgotten, abandoned.

Outside, Lily Potter let out a vehement wail as the doctors working furtively on her daughter stepped back. One nurse glanced at the clock as the staff, all dejected, drew a blanket over the bruised, pale face of her eldest daughter. Her scream grew louder, her hand smacking the window and sliding down as she collapsed into Sirius's arms. As she sobbed her heart out, she vaguely felt her family close around her. She grabbed Harry and clung to him, unwilling to let another one of her children leave her. Cedric stood, staring through the window, shocked and broken. His mother clung to his arm, wiping at her own eyes, praying for the lost soul of her heroine.

With a great, agonized scream, Lily turned to look at her family who all wore faces full of shock and grief. She turned to James, who reached out to touch her. Blinking uncertainly, she backed away from him. Her children followed suit, catching their mother as she stumbled again. She shrieked at him to stay away from her as she backed away. James struggled against both Sirius and another officer as Lily left, her children training behind her. With a last, sideways glance at his daughter's body, he felt as though everything had fallen apart. It was all over now. For him and his family.

What had he done? And what was he going to do?

In one mind though, it was only the beginning…

x-o-x

With great effort, Buffy opened her eyes.

She was staring at a ceiling covered with muted yellow paint. Her eyes drifted to a window. Soft, white curtains rippled from the heat coursing through the vent below it. A single beam of sunlight fell into her lap. Her eyes found an old vanity mirror and dresser. They swept across a bookshelf full of old volumes, a door that barely stood open and a table with a vase of dying flowers atop it. It was harder to look the other way. She felt her stomach clench painfully as she forced her head to move. Wave after wave of nausea shook her. She closed her eyes against the green and swayed ominously where she lay. A minute later, she opened her eyes again.

A single, rumpled figure sat on top of an old, leather armchair. His clothes were rumpled, his glasses knocked askew and a book he must've been reading had fallen to his lap. One leg with an untied shoe was propped against the bed. As she stared at him, her mind registered his name. A single word came to her lips as she spoke, "Giles."

Her voice was both raspy and strangled. Her mind begged for water and yet she could barely move. Lifting her arm to knock on the man's leg seemed like too great an effort. But she felt a comforting voice in the back of her head telling her that if she put her mind to something, there was nothing that could stop her. That same voice came from a nightmare that had locked her away for months. She felt salty tears trickle down her cheeks as she lifted her arm and moved it back, nudging the man's shoe. "Giles…" she moaned, unable to stop her desperate need. "Giles!"

The man suddenly came to, waking up with a sharp gasp. Smoothing his wild hair and replacing his glasses over his nose, he looked down at his rumpled position and cursed colorfully under his breath. He pushed the book to the floor and sprang to his feet, tugging at his shirt and shaking his trousers to clear the wrinkles away.

It was then he noticed the arm that had been resting peacefully beneath the covers was now at an angle next to the pillow. Anger followed his confusion as he realized Weasley must've been in here toying around with him again. He was so lost in his anger and outright frustration at Percy that he didn't realize that bright eyes were following his every movement, blinking at regular intervals.

When he did notice her eyes, he did a double take. Wonder and awe filled his gaze as he sat down again, staring simply at the young woman staring right back at him. "Buffy?" he gasped.

"Water?" she begged.

He blinked and rose to his feet again, his mind swimming over a million or so possibilities yet focusing on the one. His Slayer was finally awake. She was staring at him with her eyes wide open and blinking up at him. She begged for water, which his mind never fully processed. He was too busy reveling in the sight of his eldest Slayer being alive that he had no concern whatsoever for her present needs.

"Buffy, how…"

"Water…?" Her voice was sluggish, matching her eyes which seemed too bright for her face. Her skin looked translucent in the soft sunlight, casting shadows that made her gaunt face appear more skull-like.

"Water…" he replied, getting to his feet. Already his mind was making plans, trying to figure out the next step… "Right, water. I'll get you water. Hold on."

As he swept from the room, the door banging on the opposite wall as he flung it open, she heard his voice yelling out that Buffy was awake.

For a moment, she stared at the unfamiliar walls, realizing this wasn't hers. Tears came to her eyes again as she felt something like a breath of air on her face. A comforted feeling of being watched over settled her jangled nerves as she felt the anger of being sacrificed needlessly in her nightmare pass away. With that came a renewed sense of hope and longing for a life she knew belonged to her.

x-o-x

Next chapter: A reunion.

**Author's Note:** I had a great time in Nevada over New Year's, but all good things come to an end. The past week has been hell, literally. Nothing would make me happier than to know you like what you've read. Until then… rock on!


	16. Reunion

**Author's Note: **The last chapter was dark. This chapter is fluffy by comparison. Enjoy what light moments there are because they will soon come fewer and farther between. I actually love this chapter. For the first time in eight chapters and five months, Buffy is breathing free air again.

**Author's Note 2: **I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I ended up visiting my sister this past weekend and after a load of automobile troubles, I finally got home a few hours ago. Today has been horridly awful, but this weekend was relaxing for us both. As always, thanks to my beta Grace.

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 16**

**Reunion**

x-o-o-x

"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."

- Emily Dickinson

x-o-o-x

In the passing day, everything seemed to pass in a whirlwind.

In the minutes after she had first opened her eyes to a blinding world, she had been attacked by an overzealous redhead and a dark-haired woman who was, for some reason, unable to stop crying. Giles just stood behind them holding a glass of water. Apparently they thought that her inability to hug was from weakness and not from the possibility she was going to die of thirst. Their frantic words tumbled over one another but fell on deaf ears. Her eyes were quietly appraising the look on the older man standing behind the two younger adults who couldn't seem to notice she wasn't paying attention to her. His dark eyes had found hers over Emma's shiny head.

She knew in her heart she could trust this man, that he would do anything for her. Her lips formed a vague attempt at a smile. His eyes glanced down before meeting hers again. But his look was distinctly proud, his eyes shining with warmth.

_My God, I've missed this._

As Percy started another long-winded ramble about sending off letters to Merlin-knew-who, she actually hugged him to shut him up.

"I guess what he means to say is that he really, really missed you," Emma said softly, rubbing her hand up and down Buffy's emaciated arm. "We both have. We were so worried."

"Nothing to worry about," Buffy said, shocked at the sound of her own voice. It sounded like it had been quiet for so long now. "I'm right here."

"Yes," Emma replied, eyes shining with tears, "you're really here. You're back."

Giles suddenly cleared his throat and approached the bed. "Well, now that you've expressed your gratitude to the point of stalking, perhaps you can see she's awake and give the girl some time to breathe."

"Oh," Emma gasped, suddenly jumping to her feet. "Oh, are we crowding you?"

"Just a bit," Buffy said, giving her friend an apologetic smile.

Emma sighed and grabbed Percy's hand, yanking him gracelessly off the bed. "We'll check on her later, okay? I think there are some letters we can write, Floo messages to send?"

"Of course," Percy replied, his eyes never leaving Buffy's face. "Let's."

After the two had left the room, Buffy sat back and let the comfortable silence wash over her.

"I'm sorry about that," Giles said quietly, handing her the glass and taking his seat in his armchair, "but considering what they risked to be here, I felt they earned every moment of what you would probably call torture."

"It wasn't that bad," Buffy murmured, feeling a slight flush creep up her neck.

"I think I can safely say I know you rather well," Giles replied, watching as his Slayer drank the water through a straw. His expression turned to bemusement as he watched her gulp water the way a six-year-old may. "Let's see… you're embarrassed by the attention because you haven't showered in some months…" His lips twitched at the look of abject horror crossing her features as a stunned hand reached up to touch her head. "You're not one for mushy moments even though you love to cause a scene. You're likely still disorientated because after a few months, one starts to figure out why the girl doesn't wake up."

"Wh… What?" she asked, staring at him. "Months?"

"Perhaps that is a conversation reserved for tomorrow," Giles replied as she handed him her empty glass.

"I guess I look pretty crappy," she moaned, running her fingers through the tangles that made up her hair. And since when had it grown this long?

"No." Buffy's eyes shot up to her mentor. There was a deep emotion in his voice that caught her attention and held it. "I've never seen you quite so lovely except perhaps maybe after the apocalypse."

At that, her eyes rolled and her hands fell idly into her lap. "Oh, Giles," she murmured, unable to stop a giggle. Another moment of silence passed between them as she felt her body react strangely to the water. A sensation passed through her abdomen which alerted her to the fact that she had likely not eaten in months. "What… what's going to happen to me now?"

"I'm not certain," Giles said, leaning forward in his chair. One hand reached up to swipe his glasses from his face while the opposite hand touched muscles taut with tension and concern. "I suppose you need to time to recover."

"Do I?"

He glanced at her. Though part of her seemed like the vibrant young woman he respected above many others, half of her seemed to be missing. A gaunt face with shadowy eyes stared at him under curtains of lank hair. Arms that looked out-of-place connected to her body, joints ebbing out at the oddest angles. Her hips could barely fit inside his hands he'd be willing to bet. She looked so fragile, so vulnerable… "You look like you've been in a coma the past few months," he told her gently. "You might be ready to charge out and take on the world, but that doesn't mean you are. A lot of things have happened since you…"

"Since I was shot?" she offered helpfully.

"The world isn't the same happy place you left behind," he added.

"Doesn't mean that I don't want in," Buffy replied, stretching her legs in front of her. Even flexing her toes against the warmth of wool socks made the tendons in her legs ache. "Besides… isn't this world the same one that didn't want me to be a part of it?"

Giles didn't have an answer for her. Maybe in time he could tell her the truth, but not today. "Buffy, you're not ready to face this. When you're ready, you'll know. I'm not letting you face a war without preparing you for battle."

"I'm a Slayer, Giles. I'm supposed to be ready for war."

At seeing the lost look on her face, he wanted to reach out and touch her. But the moment soon passed as she scooted to the edge of her bed and, for the first time in five months, stood on her own legs. She wobbled slightly before taking a step forward.

"I suppose you just want to march out there and head to war now?"

Buffy threw him a dirty look before she sat back on the bed, wincing as her legs hit the covers. "You're just loving this, aren't you?"

Giles did his best to hide his amusement, but there was just something slightly funny about a Slayer not being able to stand on her own two legs. "Don't worry, Buffy. A few hundred well-rounded meals, a shower, perhaps a haircut and wardrobe change… you may be back to your old self yet."

Her face fell as she saw herself as a patronized Stepford wife. She stared down at her hands to make sure the platinum engagement ring was really gone and that part of her life was over. A sudden rush of memories suddenly came over her. A startled hand lifted to her lips. Her other hand moved to touch her chest, dropping to her abdomen. "It wasn't real," she whispered.

Giles was eyeing his Slayer apprehensively. Though she sounded like his Slayer and she even looked like his Slayer, there was just some part of her that seemed different. It was as though she had changed when she had been asleep.

"We should take this slowly," Giles murmured, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his Slayer's back. "You've obviously been through a lot. How about day by day?"

She gave him a soft look, one that longed to believe him. "Day by day."

x-o-x

It seemed like a normal day for them all. Percy was in the study that had once belonged to Emma's father surrounded by paperwork. Emma was in the den area, tidying and making certain that their sanctuary remained as home-like as it could be. She wouldn't admit it to just anyone, but she actually loved the idea of detaching herself from reality, if only for a little while. Giles had taken to studying large books that had arrived days before Buffy had awakened. But now that the Slayer was awake, they did their best not to disturb her. Emma's plan had been to let their friend come to them. Otherwise, they might force into doing something she wasn't willing to do. That thought sickened her. After what she had likely gone through, Buffy needed all the sanctuary she could get.

It was no surprise that on the fourth morning after she had woke up, she was downstairs where the other three were. She slowly examined her surroundings, taking in every wall, every painting, every carpet. Her eyes wore a look that clearly stated she had no idea where she was.

"This house belonged to Emma's parents," Giles had told her when she had asked him the morning after. She had gone to sleep quickly, but when the dreams came, she had arisen and had walked around the room, examining everything. This room did not belong to her. These clothes did not belong to her. Nothing in this reality seemed to belong to her.

Wrapping a warm blanket over her shoulders, she spied Emma outside clearing off the walk. Giles was standing a few feet away from her wrapped in the warmest Germany had to offer while talking to the younger woman. She smiled fondly as she saw the two argue. Shrugging, she set off into the main study where a young man with curly red hair was studying a long piece of parchment with a grudging look on his face.

"Hi."

He glanced up, blinking at her through his tortoise-shell glasses. "Hello, yourself," he said quietly, setting the letter down. "You're up early."

"I've slept enough." She didn't know why she felt like defending herself to him, but if he was going to act like a pompous mother-hen, she wasn't going to let him. "What are you… what are you doing?"

His eyes glanced down at the letter and he stared at it, as though trying to remember what it was. "This is my work. I'm writing a letter to the new interim Minister of Magic letting him know that you're alive and well."

"Oh."

"I've sent other letters, too," Percy said quickly, trying to capture some emotion on her face. There was a blank look that had dulled the life he so expected to see in her. "I sent one to the Order, to Hogwarts and to Harry."

"Harry…" she breathed, a voice echoing in her head.

_We died for him. We don't regret it. We gave our lives for him. We knew the cost. _

Percy reached out a hand and grasped the fragile fingers barely clinging to the desk. "He knows you're alive. He's waiting for you to come back to him."

"Giles doesn't think I'm ready."

The stupid Watcher, Percy thought. At seeing the look on her face, the broken, helpless look that defined everything she wasn't, he knew that the Watcher was off his rocker. Throwing the Slayer back into the fight would give her back the courage she needed. "What if I said I know you're ready?"

Her skeptical eyes caught him as she pushed back waves of golden hair. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Percy replied, his fingers squeezing hers. His lips quivered as he felt the reassuring squeeze in return. "Do you remember anything about the past year… anything at all?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "There is some."

"You were ready to give it all up for him. You were ready to just leave and stay away because you knew that you were a threat to your brother. Do you want to know the truth? It doesn't matter if you think you're dangerous to him. What matters is that you're there. He had to survive these past seventeen years without a family. And then you were there. You brought light back into his life to chase away the darkness. You change everyone you meet. I would be only half the man I am today had I never known you." He smiled at the tentative hope that flashed in her eyes. It was only there for a split second, but he clung to that notion. After all of the darkness he had endured these past few months, he figured he'd earned it. "You don't have to be ready to fight this war. But you will be. You're not alone in this battle. There are others out there ready to die for this cause. I know your parents sacrificed their lives for him. Others have also given their lives to the cause." He thought bitterly at the moment of his brother but swallowed his despair in the attempt to see the hope in her eyes again.

He didn't find it.

"Why…" Her voice was soft, her breathing shallow. She appeared to have a hard time looking at him. "Why do you have so much faith in me?"

"I know who you are," Percy replied firmly, reaching across the desk to touch her pale cheek. "And I know _what _you are."

"They said there wasn't time," Buffy said, hearing her mother's voice echo in her head.

All she needed to see was the grief on his face before she knew her words were confirmed. "There really isn't," he said quietly. "People are dying. Each day we wait, more will follow. I…"

This time, it was her hand that comforted him. It was a touch he had craved for so long; to feel her arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him in an embrace so warm and caring it made his spirits soar. The hug lasted barely a moment, but it had the same affect on him. He smiled down at the wan, pale face that glanced up at him. His hand reached down to tuck her hair from her eyes and set it behind her ear. "In all this time," he countered, "I needed you. I needed my best friend to be there and you weren't."

"I'm so sorry," she replied, her voice just a shadow of what it was. There was darkness flickering in her gaze and she blinked it away. "But there was somewhere else I had to be."

"I understand." Truly, he didn't. Where else could she be if not here?

"I hope we're not missing all the fun."

Buffy pulled away from Percy and glanced over her shoulder to see Emma Vance standing in the doorway. Her cheeks were rosy and frosty from the cold. Bits of ice and snow clung from her wool cap as she pulled it from her dark hair, setting it aside. Giles stood behind her, dripping from head to toe in ice and slush. He stomped his boots and went upstairs, his heavy footfalls and angry muttering drifting down to the others.

"We were just talking," Percy said in a formal voice, clearing his throat and sitting down at the desk again.

"I see." Emma's tone wasn't warm, but it was curious. Her dark eyes sought out Buffy's, but the young woman wasn't looking at either of them. Her gaze was aimed at her feet. "Buffy, why don't you head outside? It's cold, but I've got the heaters on."

Buffy found herself opening the door and heading outside. Arranging the blanket to better cover her emaciated shoulders, she made her way over to the benches where Emma was moving a few pillows. Two large silver objects were humming and vibrating slightly as they threw off copious amounts of heat in the area. Buffy also found that this end of the porch was clear of snow and ice. Instead, it was occupied by two large white porch swings and the two heaters.

"Sit," Emma said, inviting her to sit on one of the swings covered with a load of pillows and a warm blanket. Buffy happily covered her legs as she stretched out on the swing.

"I like it."

"I didn't think you would," Emma said softly, glancing back at her friend as she, too, sat on the opposite swing. "But then again, you are a California girl. Do you remember that?"

There was a fond smile on her face. "I do."

"Good," Emma replied, covering her own legs before glancing back at the other woman. "Tea? Water? Juice?"

"Juice would be good."

Emma pulled out her wand and a pitcher with two glasses appeared in midair. A moment later, Buffy was sipping at one of the best glasses of apple juice she'd ever had while Emma held her glass, watching Buffy drink. Feeling embarrassed, she set the glass aside. "You want to talk."

"I think you should talk to someone," Emma replied, frowning. "Percy seems to be a poor choice considering that you're his favorite person in the world. Giles would also be a bad choice because he's done nothing except bloody whine since we got here that we haven't done enough to ensure your safety."

"My safety from what?" Buffy asked, confused.

"This is why we're talking," Emma confirmed, sipping her juice.

"What are we talking about?" Buffy asked warily. Having just led another life for several months, she was in no hurry to return to it. The memories and the dreams they led to were bad enough.

"Loss," Emma said. Buffy's eyes lifted again as the other girl shrugged. "We're both familiar with the word. Something we love is taken away and can't be replaced. Three months ago, the Ministry of Magic was attacked and hundreds inside were killed, including my mother." At Buffy's gasp, she plowed on, unwilling to let the blonde get a word in edgewise. "Percy's brother was also killed. More… more died than that, but the point of the matter is, things are different now. The war is growing bigger and the dark side is, at the moment, winning."

"Why didn't they tell me about this?"

"Giles doesn't think you're ready and Percy can't pull his head out of his buttocks," Emma sighed, waving a dramatic hand. "They both care about you so much that they ignore the fact that you're a lot stronger than they are."

"You think I'm ready?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is that you're ready to go back."

Buffy glanced down for a moment before sighing. "I don't know what to think."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

There it was. The open invitation. Emma was inviting her to pour out the bloodied soul she carried along with every last thought of vengeance that was set deep in the Slayer's heart. But there was nothing that could pry these wounds open again. She had barely stitched them shut. She gave Emma an apologetic smile and shook her head. "I'm not ready for that yet."

"It must've been terrible."

"It really was," Buffy murmured.

"But you're here now… right?"

"Yes," Buffy replied. "I'm here. I'm alive and kicking." She attempted to smile away Emma's concerns, but the other girl was having nothing of it. Buffy felt her smile fade as she cleared her throat, her eyes darting away. Emma watched her for a moment before glancing out at the snow-covered trees.

"I used to love this house," she said in a quiet voice. "Back when my father was alive. I barely remember what this house looked like when he was still here. It's been so quiet for so long, I can't hear him laughing anymore. It's like my world has gone quiet." Her eyes suddenly focused on a shadow moving between the swirling flakes. "Nobody knows what he was like because I never talk about him. My mother loved him and feared him and despised him and obsessed over him, even after he died."

"I'm sorry." There was a strange look on Buffy's face now as she watched her friend recount her own past.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Emma said, her voice stronger as she moved to her feet, her eyes still fixing on a shadow that seemed to be drawing closer. "We all have secrets, even those we never had the time to tell."

"I just can't go back there," Buffy said, a desperate tone in her voice. "I hope you—" Her voice cut out suddenly as Emma drew her wand out, coming to the edge of the rail. "What is it?"

"There's somebody out there," Emma whispered.

Buffy sat up, immediately on edge. Casting the blanket off of her body, she joined Emma at the steps. Emma gave her a dark look before turning to pound on the study window. "Percy, we've got company!" Seeing the look on Buffy's face, she moved back to the Slayer, keeping her voice low and calm as not to set the other woman off. "What can you see?"

"It's a man," Buffy said slowly.

Emma drew in her breath softly. "Maybe you should get inside. The Death Eaters are probably trying to find you."

But Buffy didn't appear to be listening. Her eyes were locked on a figure now barely visible through the swirling flakes. A peal of sunlight shone down on that moment, illuminating a familiar form.

"Buffy?"

"He's no threat to us," Buffy breathed, a sudden smile working on her thin face. She turned to Emma, her smile widening. "He's one of ours."

The figure suddenly broke through the gloom and, with a smile worthy of any trophy, lifted his arm in welcome. Emma gasped, bringing a hand to her lips. Buffy took a step down, ignoring the chill and the snow. His was a face that haunted her comatose life but was so warm and familiar she felt like breaking down. Her body jarred as she took another step down. The figure moved swiftly to her. Before she could react, his arms were around her and her body was in the air. Strong arms held her tightly as she felt the entire world spin. When she felt her feet touch the ground, a warm hand touched her cheek. She let out a slow breath, offering a quiet smile. He responded with one in kind before his mouth dipped to catch hers. As the kiss deepened, he pulled her closer to him, her strength easily pulling her higher.

The front door to the house opened and Percy stumbled out, trying to yank on his winter coat with one hand and holding his wand precariously with the other. At seeing who their visitor was, he turned accusing eyes to Emma who just smiled meekly at him. Knowing that he would want to stay, Emma moved across the threshold, dragging Percy behind her.

With a smile, she beamed up at Oliver as he set her onto the ground, the snow crunching beneath her feet. His hands reached down to smooth the hair from her face as he drew her to him, his arms wrapping around in an embrace that was just this side of Heaven.

Even in the surreal life, something like this was only dreamt of. Tears filled her eyes as she pressed her cheek into his warm chest. His arms wrapped her in a place where she felt completely and utterly content. His head rested on top of hers. She let out a long breath as she regretfully pulled back, gazing up at him. Wordlessly, she tucked her hand into his and turned back towards the front door, which was standing ajar. He followed her lead and entered the protective warmth of the house.

x-o-x

Giles was quiet one evening later that week as he carefully sliced into his roast. His eyes were on his charge who sat protectively between the one calling himself her boyfriend and the one calling himself her friend. The only good that could be said about mealtime was when these two morons stopped their pissing contest and actually behaved like the adult males they were. Supposedly they had been classmates and acquaintances. He had never been so ashamed of his gender before as he was now.

The only other person who seemed to be as critical as he was Emma. She sat next to him, spearing her potatoes while casting dark looks at Percy. She had quit telling him to behave himself the day before since obviously it wasn't working. Buffy seemed oblivious to the whole thing.

Giles admitted that with a few weeks good rest, Buffy was looking healthier. The ghastly edge from her complexion had worn down and her skin seemed to glow. Whether it was from happiness or the vast amounts of oily food forcing her to gain weight, he didn't know. She certainly seemed healthier with the young Scottish man around. His fork repeatedly stabbed the same slab of meat, his eyes disdainfully scanning the young man. He seemed open and charming, but it was obvious that she was distracted from getting better when he was around. The other young man may seem pompous, but at least he cared about more than his hormones.

Buffy set down her fork and asked for the gravy boat. It was nearest Emma, who happily handed it to Oliver, who gently set it in her hands with one of those little smiles that seemed to irritate the Watcher even more. What was worse was when Percy Weasley leaned across the table, plucked the boat from her hands and started drizzling the gravy over her meat.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Oliver asked, setting down his fork and turning to Percy with an irritated glare.

"I'm just helping out," Percy said in his carefully vague tone, setting down the gravy boat at the table's center and, smirking, returned to his own plate.

"She could have done it herself," Oliver replied, his voice cooling. Percy arched his eyebrows as he glanced at Oliver.

Buffy slowly lost her dreamy look as she noticed the glare Oliver was now sending over her head. Sighing, she set her fork down and swallowed. "You know—"

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you were coddling her on purpose," Oliver snapped over Buffy's protest.

Percy took the bait and felt the sudden need to push every button on this other man's temper. "And you call yourself more than a man, watching her with googly eyes and doing nothing useful? Oh, yes, I can say that you're just—"

"Enough," Buffy said suddenly, glaring at both men. Percy opened his mouth to speak but found a hand pressed against his chest. In the next rush of hair, his chair was toppled and he was sitting on the floor, staring at the Slayer's angry face hovering above him. At hearing the throaty chuckle behind her, Buffy spun around and repeated her action, sending Oliver flying into the wall. "If I hear one more sign of testosterone poisoning, I will happily put you both in the hospital. Is that clear?"

Emma couldn't help but giggle at Buffy's sudden temper swing. Even Giles stopped eating long enough to watch Percy stand up, grumbling. Oliver righted his seat and sat down again. But both men were quiet, occasionally sending dark glares across their plates. But Buffy's intervention spared the group another night of pointless arguing and chest thumping at large. For once, Giles was grateful that his Slayer had returned. She may not yet be back to her full strength, but at least she was well on her way.

x-o-x

"I don't know why you let him treat you like that."

Buffy sighed as she pulled the long braid over her shoulder, running her fingers idly through the ends. Oliver had been ranting for the past few minutes since she said she wanted to go to bed. She sighed as she leaned against the headboard, letting him rant. He needed to get it off his chest and he might as well say it to her. The worst she could do was break a few of his bones. She was in no temperament to really do him any serious harm. After all, she had waited this long to see him. This was the most passionate he had been since her dreams.

"Stop talking before you talk yourself to death," she finally said after another minute. Her patience had its mercy, too, and she was at her limit. He sighed and moved to her bed, sitting down and burying his head into frustrated hands. She moved to her knees and pressed herself up to him, cool hands running over his tense neck muscles. "Hey."

He glanced up at her as she knelt next to him. With a sigh, he pulled himself together and faced her. He felt her hands work into his hair. "I'm sorry. You're the one that's suffered. I feel like we're doing you more harm than good."

The corner of her mouth lifted into a sad half-smile. "Never." Moving forward, her arms wrapped around him. He felt an old ache settle inside as he realized just how much he had missed this. His hands reached up to cover hers.

"This is nice."

"This is better," she replied, her voice almost shy. He felt her moving around behind him, her hands working the tense muscles in his back. He winced at her power, but appreciated her effort.

"Have I told you how much I missed you?"

She glanced up, pushing her bangs aside as he turned to face her, taking her hands in one of his. "No," she said, glancing down. "But you could start."

His arms quickly wrapped around her narrow body as he pulled her to him. It was a kiss that grew quickly from need and want to something more. She moaned against him as his tongue teased her lips, drawing her closer. She felt her body falling against his as he stretched out. His hand reached around the back of her head to pull her closer. Her hands began to slowly wander downwards, teasing him for what was sure to come. As he pulled away to catch his breath, her lips nipped at his, one hand reaching to cradle his face, the other reaching down his abdomen. Dazed eyes stared up at her, silently asking her a question that seemed to hang in the air between them. Her response was to take his lips, adding more than a hint of fire to her kiss. His hands pulled her closer, reaching to feel her back, the unnatural ribs cutting into his hands as they explored the free skin. The sudden desperate need to feel all of her skin washed over him as she slipped on top of him.

A loud voice cleared in the doorway. Buffy froze, her hands reaching up to push herself off of him. Realizing they had been caught in a position too intimate for an audience, she found Giles staring hard at them from the open doorway. "I just wanted to say good night," he said in a cold voice, his harsh eyes glaring at Oliver. The young man cleared his throat as he sat up, neatly displacing the Slayer that had been perched on top of him. With one last dark look, he passed on.

"I guess I should have checked that," she said, chuckling in embarrassment as she pushed her hair from her face.

"And I should've…" His voice trailed off as he saw the uncertain expression on hers. "Hey." He sat up, taking her arm. "All right?"

"I'm good," she said, moving off of the bed and rearranging her blouse which had gotten somewhat tussled. "I feel like I just got caught by my father."

"We weren't doing anything bad," Oliver protested as he watched her move to the door and push it close.

"We were about to."

Neither one of them fooled the other. She cleared her throat and moved back to the bed, pulling down the comforter. "I should probably get to sleep," she added, glancing back at him. "I haven't been sleeping well, since…"

His eyes softened as he moved to her. "Buffy…"

"I'm okay," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I'll be okay."

"I don't mean that. You've been through something that I can't begin to imagine and now you're—"

She let out a short, sharp laugh as she sat down again, feeling the tears pool in the corners of her eyelids. She cursed her heightened emotional state since she'd returned from the sleep of the dead. "Do you know what's strange? I wake up and things are to the point of insanity. I can't even think about what I've done because everyone insists that I know how bad things are here. No one cares about where I've been or how… how awful it was?" The tears were spilling over now. "I watched my entire life fall apart and now I'm here and part of me wishes I could have that back. I'm living and I wish I wasn't."

"Don't say that," he said, sitting next to her. "Please, don't say that."

She touched a finger to his lips. "Things were simpler. People meant more. Everything seemed so real and I find out it was all a lie."

His arms wrapped around her, drawing her to the warmth of his chest. She breathed in his scent for a quiet moment before pulling back.

"I just want you to know that I'm here," he said, tipping her face gently to his. "We are all here for you. Maybe we don't know what you've been through, but until you're ready to tell us we won't know."

"I know," she replied, scooting herself backwards and throwing herself down on the bed. "And I get that. But it'd be nice to have a little space too."

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes as he made to stand up. But her hand took his wrist, stopping him.

"Didn't mean you."

He glanced at her as he moved beside her. "I'll give you what you need."

"I've waited long enough for you," she whispered, her fingers reaching up to trace his jaw line and moving to his hair. Slipping her fingers behind his neck, she brought his face down to hers. A moment later, he pulled back and her lips twisted into a smile. "You can stay here tonight, you know."

"On a gentleman's honor, I promise not to do anything."

"Can you hold me?" she asked, tilting her head. His hand went to his wand, using it to turn out the lights. Turning back, he slid down beside her, drawing the covers around them. His arms went around her body, pulling her back into him. Her eyes crinkled as she felt a bit of what she had been striving for pressing against her backside. He sighed as his head tipped next to hers. Within moments, she was asleep. He remained awake awhile, memorizing the contours of her face and the soft hum of her breath. His fingers stroked her hair, her neck, her back. She was the most beautiful thing to him in the world in this moment and, for awhile, nothing else mattered.

x-o-x

Percy Weasley glanced at the last letter on his desk before giving it to the mail-order owl with flourish. The owl took the letter to the window and sailed off into the cool day. Percy gave a small sigh of relief before he pulled the window shut. He glanced up as Emma walked into the den, looking put out. "Good morning," he said, pushing the drapes closed as he straightened, glancing happily at the cleared off surface of Emma's father's desk.

She just huffed out, folding her arms against her chest. "Good morning?" she snapped irritably.

"I happen to find it a pleasant morning. For the first time in a few months, my work load is gone and vanished." He gestured to the desk, hoping to see her tense face relax. If possible, it scrunched up more as she turned to him.

"Percy!" she screeched.

"What?" he asked, unable to stop a small jump of surprise.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, stalking over to the chair and dropping into it. "It's just… all Giles has been doing these past few days is complaining about Buffy. And then he switches to his next favorite pastime and complains about Oliver. I just delivered him his mail. He's got her standing on her head and balancing books on the bottoms of her feet. She's not a performing monkey in heels. She's a bloody girl!"

"I think we're all beginning to suffer the effects of cabin fever," Percy muttered under his breath. "Is he planning on letting us out soon?"

"That's the thing!" Emma exploded, with such visible energy that Percy leapt back. "This is _my _house! Bloody hell!"

"I know how you feel," Percy replied, moving quickly to put steadying hands on Emma's shoulders. "But we have to be patient. Until he feels she's ready—"

"She's ready now!" Emma shouted back. "How many weeks ago did you send Harry that letter that she was awake? Don't you think he's ready to see his sister now? Why wait another year for him to train her on how to act like a robot again?"

"Emma, dearest Emma," Percy sighed, drawing the irate girl into a comforting hug. Her hands fell on his shoulders as she pulled back, a look of growing alarm spreading across her face. His hand reached out to push her hair back, but her hand reached up to stop his. She blinked uncertainly, suddenly not knowing what to do.

"That Watcher has me on the end of my tether."

Percy and Emma stepped away from one another, both turning as one to face Oliver who stomped into the study, looking aggravated.

Emma sighed as she dropped back onto the chair. "You're preaching to the choir," she moaned.

x-o-x

Giles stood perched at the edge of a chair, watching as his Slayer literally danced her way from one end of the room to the other. Each movement was precise, if not exaggerated by a body clearly not fit for her job. But she moved, knowing the dance by heart. Her fists beat out in sync with her breathing. Her kicks were sharp and direct. At last, she paused, turning to face him, her hands expectantly on her hips. Long hair flanked her pink face, falling in unruly sheets to her waist.

"All right," he relented, seeing her impatient glare and knowing it was foolish to hold her back any further. "You're ready."

x-o-x

_Hogwarts_

Harry glanced around through the stacks, trying to see through the gaps of books. A group of Slytherin sixth and seventh years were sitting at a table between two of the shelves. They all appeared to be working on their coursework. Even Faith was paying attention to her book, twirling a quill idly in her hands.

Pulling back, his eyes scanned the books and found the one he'd been searching for. He found his way back to the table where Ron, Hermione, Ginny and a few others were studying. Ginny barely acknowledged him, her eyes instead on her essay. Hermione was surrounded by books, making her impossible to see. Ron, however, was giving him a knowing smirk. Harry, being the complete idiot that he was, had confessed to Ron everything that had happened on Christmas.

He actually remembered everything himself.

_She had shown him the letter, the one from Evan Rosier. She had looked triumphant as she waved the proof of why they could never be together in his face. But he felt his own triumph flicker to life at knowing that no matter what they did to her, she would always be Faith._

_At that moment, nothing else mattered._

_"Do you know what I think?" he asked silkily, grabbing her suddenly by her shoulders. She gasped and froze, her eyes staring blankly into his. "I think you're working your buttocks off trying to overcall whatever pall was cast by that ridiculous letter."_

_There was a hint at life in her eyes, a flash of deep guilt and then nothing. "You're not wrong," came her quiet reply._

_His hands moved up her neck as he took a step closer. He couldn't read her gaze now, but there was something dark and swirling in her eyes as they met his blankly, refusing to let him see. "But I also know something that you can't ever take away from yourself," he breathed, his hands reaching her hair as he pulled her closer. She didn't try to fight him away. "You can't deny that this isn't real."_

_"No." Just that single word sent shivers down his body. Her guard was let down and again he could see the flash of fear in her eyes. "Harry, please..." The words sounded desperate, but not nearly as desperate for her as he was in that moment._

_"I don't think so." Without pausing to think of what he might be doing or of how he could be paying for this once it was over, he pulled her to him, pressing his mouth on hers. For one perfect moment, he held her, letting himself feel her. Her moan against his lips was the perfect incentive. His lips twisted as his tongue gently parted her lips. He felt her arms reach up to take him, but his movement was faster. His arms reached down to push her away. As she fell back against the wall, she stared at him with swollen lips and eyes ablaze with need._

_"No more waiting," he said in a husky voice, his eyes watching her erratic breathing. "It's time to make your choice."_

So far, she hadn't made any choice. He'd told Ron that he had made the first move. Ron actually looked triumphant as he turned back to his books, his lips quirking as he pushed aside the stack between him and Hermione in order to check her progress. Harry, despite the growing stacks of homework, felt the need to glance over his shoulder. A sudden shadow fell across the far stacks. Rising, he turned back to Ron, but found him talking to Hermione. As he slipped away, he didn't noticed Hermione's saddened expression as she turned back to her essay with a heavy sigh.

Even the knowledge that they had the book that could help the D.A. had done little to cheer Harry. He was convinced that he was right about him and Faith and he held that knowledge to himself. He knew that Hermione was hurt over this newest phase, but he didn't want to push her. He didn't want to lose her, not as she was one of his closest friends and confidants.

A part of him was also angry. It had been two to three weeks since Percy had sent him the letter saying that his sister was awake and recovering. He had sent a dozen owls in that time, demanding to know where she was and why she wasn't back in England, all of which came back unanswered. He only hoped that she was all right and focused on the fact that she was getting better and not staying away on purpose. Not like his other Slayer was, anyway.

As he walked into the shadows, he saw a figure moving about, scanning books with a curious expression on her face. His lips broadened into a wide smile as he saw Faith's dark expression. As he took another step closer, she raised to her full height and turned on him, her hands pressing into his with such force he winced at the imminent bruising.

"Harry!" she whispered sharply, glancing around them as he shook her hands off, rubbing his sore arms with a wounded expression on his face.

If he wanted to admit it to himself, he had another reason for pulling her into his corner. He wanted to tell her that Buffy was all right. He half-hoped Faith would already know with the intuition both women seemed to share, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not from you," she said heatedly, pushing past him with a sharp jab from her shoulder. He spun around, glaring at the back of her head before he felt his temper snap.

"Fine," he hissed back. "But you think you could topple down from your mighty horse for a moment to quit acting like such a flaming—"

She spun around on him so quickly it made him reel. "Who do you think you are?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she descended on him, anger etched in the pale lines of her face. "You stupid, selfish—"

His hand reached out to cover her mouth, his eyes imploring her to calm down so he could say his piece. "I actually wanted to tell you something that has nothing to do with us." He winced at the arrogant expression in her eyes. "Not that there's an us, but—"

Her hand forcefully shoved his from her mouth as her hands went to narrow hips. "What?"

"It's about Buffy," he said in a hurried tone. He saw another shadow fast approaching. Faith seemed to sense it, too. With a half-glance behind her, she suddenly came at him with the force of a whirlwind. Her hands took him by the robes, pushing him into the corner where they waited for a moment as a Slytherin sixth year passed by, looking bored. When she turned back to face him, she blinked as their faces were only inches apart. Fear, turmoil and guilt boiled over, but her senses seemed to reclaim her as she took a step away.

"I don't think—"

"Then I'll think for both of us." Within seconds, she found herself swept into his arms again. Her hands reached up, clenching around his robes as she added her own spin to the kiss. Her teeth tugged on his lower lip, her tongue caressing his upper lip as she pulled back, smirking. His eyes stared down at her, the green glimmering even in the darkness.

"What about B?"

"She's awake," Harry said, his voice strangely quiet. His hands gently pushed her away as he moved out of the shadows, blinking into the light. "You might want to tell your Watcher. She may actually be back soon."

"How long have you known?"

"About two, three weeks," Harry admitted, turning back to face her. At seeing the sudden flash of anger, he felt the need to defend himself. "It isn't like you're approachable nowadays," he snapped. "Besides, I thought you would know."

"I would know except the two people that went to rescue her happen to hate me." Her hands went back to her hips. "I might think it's three as you took so damned long to tell me."

"Faith—"

"No." Her voice was an actual grunt, drawing the attention of those studying around them. With a quick glance around, she dropped her voice. "No. You know how important Buffy is to me, to both of us. I'm not going to let you sit here and attempt to charm away the fact that you held out on me."

"I know I did. And I'm sorry."

"So am I." Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from him. "I think you should know I've made my choice." Despite her best efforts to stay away from him, this was going to have to hold up. She needed it to hold up. Swallowing away the last trace of her emotions, she masked her face and said, "I choose no."

Turning on her heel, she headed out of the stacks, leaving Harry alone in the darkness, lost in his own thoughts.

x-o-x

_ London, Night  
_

"I can't believe how much I've missed this city," Buffy said, her hand tucked inside Oliver's elbow as she gazed fondly at the streetcar they'd just gotten off of. "I love London."

"Me, too," Emma grunted, smoothing her long wool coat and casting a dark look at the Muggle transportation as though it had insulted her. Percy stumbled next to her, looking exhausted. Giles had insisted they take Muggle transportation all the way to and through London, arousing as little suspicion as possible. If that wasn't bad enough, the Watcher had ditched them at the airport.

The first thing Buffy had done was drag herself to the first beautician she could find. The long, heavy locks had been chopped away and she came out looking rather adorable, her hands touching hair that barely reached her shoulders. The second destination led them to Buffy's flat where the three watched Buffy practically seduce her wardrobe before they headed to their last destination, the Leaky Cauldron.

"Did you want to take a room here tonight?" Percy asked Buffy as they walked inside the old saloon. "I'm sure they have rooms—" His voice trailed off as they walked inside. This was one of the first times he had ever seen the Leaky Cauldron absolutely dead silent. Tom, the wizened wizard behind the counter, glanced up at them and shook his head, shrugging at the empty dining area. "Maybe we should take the Knight Bus to Hogsmeade for the night."

"Need food," Buffy said, glaring at Percy. He resigned himself to the fact that he would never be man enough to stick up for himself under her glare and waved a gleeful Tom over.

"We'd like to order dinner and perhaps take lodging if it is available."

"As a fact, it is," Tom replied, giving him his toothless smile. "Will you be needing two rooms, then?"

Percy and Emma exchanged a glance of horror over the candlelight separating them before gazing at the two seated inside. They were just staring at one another as though the world didn't matter to them. But considering Giles had been doing his best to keep privacy between the couple to a minimum, both Percy and Emma realized exactly what the two would be doing five minutes after getting into the room.

"Two rooms are fine," Buffy suddenly said, breaking the silence by giving Emma a strange look. "We can take the Knight Bus to Hogwarts in the morning if you're that uncomfortable."

"That'll be fine," Emma replied, glancing up at Tom with a relieved smile.

Tom quickly relayed what he had on the menu and they ordered. Moments later, he brought them a jug of wine and spirits and the four quickly filled their glasses, toasting to the night and to friendship.

After dinner, Emma found herself being dragged into a room with Buffy, while the men reluctantly tucked into the room across the hall. Once the door was closed, Emma rounded on the blonde. "What is with you tonight?" she hissed.

"I'm in my own clothes," Buffy giggled feebly, staring down at her bright tunic and pants.

Emma found herself growing irritable. Buffy had easily had the most to drink of any of them tonight, convincing them time and again that her little Slayer's body could handle it, lack of weight or not. "And you didn't want to share with your boyfriend?"

"And what, force you and Percy to share a room?" she asked, blinking up at her friend as she opened the bag she'd brought with her from her flat. At seeing the sheer amount of clothing and toiletries crammed inside, Emma gave her friend a dry look. "Please… I can wait one more night to tear his clothes off. And it isn't like we haven't had privacy. We just had to be more… choosy about it."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked as she settled on one of the beds, bringing her own bag up with her.

"There was the shower," Buffy said thoughtfully, twirling a hairbrush around as she sat on her own bed, her hair framing a flushed face. "Oh, the cellar. There was that little nook between the dining room and kitchen. There was—"

"I get it," Emma snapped, holding up her hand. "You obviously played around there?"

"Not really played around, played around," Buffy admitted, running her brush through her hair with a dreamy look on her face. "I still haven't torn his clothes off."

Emma felt herself growing queasy as she turned back to her things, refusing to look at Buffy again unless she felt like vomiting on her. "That was too much information for me to follow."

Buffy just giggled at her before throwing her brush into her bag and brushing the heavy bit off her bed with a flick of her leg. Emma sighed before giving up her own defenses and flinging herself onto her bed. She watched as Buffy lay quietly for several minutes before saying, "You could have gone to him if you'd wanted to."

Buffy opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment before she said, her voice barely audible, "When I was sleeping, he was dangled in front of me like a toy." She gave a sad little laugh. "I was so ready to fight for him. Now, I don't have to. I think he already belongs to me."

"And you to him," Emma said, curling onto her side and reaching up to switch out the light.

"Yeah," she said softly, rolling over towards the door, facing away from Emma. Her fingers curled into the blanket, drawing its scratchy feel against her tingling skin. "Yeah…"

The next morning was harried. All four managed to get out onto the street, but in various forms of readiness. Buffy was clearly lacking, her hair was wildly pinned up and she was wearing clothing that looked far less together than her normally fashionable ensemble. Yet the others said nothing as they boarded the Knight Bus.

Percy and Emma found themselves sitting stiffly next to each other, watching as Buffy and Oliver cuddled on one of the plush purple sofas and dozed as the Knight Bus popped along. How either of them could sleep was a total mystery, Emma thought as she picked herself off of the floor for the fourth time. At last, the conductor, someone none of them knew, announced their destination next. Once at Hogwarts, all four got off of the bus. Percy was a little green in the face and swayed as he stepped off, drawing in a deep lung-full of cold air to steady himself. Buffy smoothed her jacket as she glanced at the castle looming in the distance. With a keen sense that she was returning home, she turned to the others who stared apprehensively at the school they thought they'd left behind.

"You don't have to come with me," she told them.

"My brother's in there," Percy said indignantly, stepping up next to her. "As well as my sister."

"You go, I go," Emma grinned, coming up on Buffy's opposite side.

Oliver ambled up next to Emma, squinting at the castle. "I spent enough time there last year even though I was out. Another hour isn't going to kill me."

Buffy smiled at her friends before taking Emma's hand with great enthusiasm and skipped towards the gates.

x-o-x

_Hogwarts_

"I'm telling you, mate," Ron said, his mouth full of porridge as he glanced over his essay, his eyes fondly taking in the large 'E' written on the corner, "you just focus yourself and you'll be great."

"Right," Harry said, glaring at his 'A'. The fact Ron had outshone him on a Potions essay normally wouldn't bother him, but today everything seemed to be going wrong. Hermione just sat next to Ron, staring happily at her 'O', making Harry feel like even more of a dunce. He was curious as to how Ron had done that much better than him, considering half the time Ron copied off of him.

"That's what you get when you do your own work, Ronald," Ginny said suddenly, dropping on Ron's opposite side with a knowing look. Her eyes moved over to Harry, who was staring at Ron as though he'd grown a second head. "You might want to close your mouth, Harry. You never know what could happen if you left it hanging open like that."

There was a sharp laugh behind Ginny as Hermione tucked her paper back into her bag. She had said very little that day, but there was a determined look on her face that none of them quite understood.

Harry snapped his mouth shut, sending both girls a dark look. So far, he'd earned himself another detention with Snape after daring to answer a question the Professor had set out. Aside from that, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was angry at him for not participating in class. If Professor Sprout had one thing to say about his ability to grow ever-changing flytraps that afternoon, he was going to lose it.

"Harry?" Ron asked softly, glancing at his best friend. Harry's face was tinted pink as he stared down at his hands. "Mate?"

"I'm good," Harry said in a voice he would later hate himself for. "Really, I am." As he looked up, his eyes scanned the Slytherin table. They darkened when he noticed all of the Slytherin seventh years save one. Faith had yet to show up for breakfast and had a feeling she'd been training late the night before. Since their moment in the library, she had been avoiding him. He supposed she was justified in doing so, but that did little to abate his frustrations. Ron seemed to follow Harry's eye line and suddenly blushed and looked away. Harry kept his eyes on the table until he noticed Malfoy's disgusting impression of Harry before turning away. Smothering a yawn, he shoved his paper into his bag and stood up, preparing himself for the long walk down to the greenhouses.

"Harry?" For the first time that day, Hermione spoke.

Harry couldn't look at her. He had a feeling she knew what he felt, that she knew he was in pain. He kept his eyes averted as he pulled his bag onto his shoulder before throwing back at Ron, "See you at dinner, mate."

"Harry," Ginny breathed, taking him by the arm as she stood up. "Look."

If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed that the Great Hall had fallen silent. His eyes glanced at Ginny until he slowly turned around. Two people were moving towards them. The closer they came, the quieter the room became. Even the staff table had fallen silent, as though everyone was waiting on bated breath.

Percy Weasley and Emma Vance had never looked more welcome. Ron's face tightened slightly as a smile crossed Ginny's face. Both Weasleys moved to greet their elder brother. Hermione stood up, leaning slowly forward as the two parted, allowing a third figure to come forward.

Harry felt as though his breath had been stolen away. He couldn't breathe, couldn't react… he didn't even remember where he was.

"Buffy," Hermione whispered.

The small woman stepped between her two friends, her eyes on the enchanted ceiling, looking so mesmerized she didn't notice that everyone inside the Great Hall was staring at her. Harry could only gape at her before she finally stopped a few feet from him, her eyes dropping to meet his.

Finally remembering his voice, he managed to choke out, "Took you long enough."

A tight, sad smile came to her lips as she took a step forward. Before he could think another moment, he flung his bag aside and swept his sister into his arms. He heard her laughter as her arms tightened painfully around his neck. He couldn't resist his own as he finally set her down, gazing at a face that could only belong to her. His hands swept over her pale cheeks, pushing her shorter locks from her eyes. Those eyes held his, captivating him. Though she looked painfully thin and emaciated, she was still the most beautiful image he had ever seen.

"Welcome back, Buffy," Ginny chuckled, stepping between the siblings and giving the elder Potter a warm hug. "It's really great to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too," Buffy said thickly as she hugged the younger redhead back. She then turned to hug Hermione, who had run around the end of the Gryffindor table just for this moment. As Harry watched his sister greet his friends, he turned back to the Slytherin table and frowned. It didn't seem right that Faith wasn't there to witness this moment. She had to be somewhere.

His eyes fell onto Draco. With a satisfied smirk of his own, he saw the Slytherin Prince looked absolutely shocked. _I bet he didn't expect to ever see her alive again_, Harry thought happily.

He turned back to see Wood. Grinning, he shook his former Quidditch Captain's hand, admiring the way he greeted Spencer and Laurel. Emma Vance stood next to Percy, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, both allowing their friend to have her moment in the spotlight. So many had waited for her to return and now that she had, the feeling of loss intensified. Until Buffy was able to talk to them would she finally be able to fully comprehend how bad things had actually gotten. Until then, they would have to wait.

The staff table watched the moment quietly before Professor Dumbledore stood up. There was a resolute calm in his face as he approached the small crowd of people and neatly pulled Buffy from it. "Ms. Summers, it is quite a delight to have you within my halls again."

"It's an honor to be back, sir," she replied, dabbing her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. "I've missed this."

"And we've missed you," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "If you would please vacate to the Entrance Hall, I wish to speak with you and your friends."

"Of course," she nodded, turning back and collecting Percy, Oliver and Emma. As they retreated from the hall, she gave Harry one last wave and with it came the promise of a conversation neither of them was certain the other wanted to have.

x-o-x

In the darkest catacombs within London's shady streets, a single figure moved stealthily among the shadows. His eyes searched out what he half-expected to find, a crushed letter bleeding ink into his palm. He had no intentions to make this meeting, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. After learning that the man had lived, Giles wanted to look him in the eyes in order to believe it on his own accord.

A sudden footstep on the rain-soaked street halted his progress. He waited, his breath held, his heart hammering in his ears.

"Really, Rupert, all of this sneaking around? What would the others say?"

A blinding light attached to a wand suddenly appeared as Quentin Travers stepped around a corner to face the taller form of his former pupil.

"Well, now, aren't you the dapper chap?"

Giles held his silence. In reply, he lifted the hand that held the crushed letter that bled into his palm.

"Oh, yes, that little trifle, I'm afraid," Quentin said, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he lowered the wand, the light blending into the shadows. "Rupert, you have done us quite the service. I don't know what my Lord would have done if the girl had been allowed to die."

"I won't play these games with you, Quentin," Giles said, his voice deceptively calm despite the rage coursing through his veins.

"Rupert," Quentin appealed, a slight smile on his pudgy face, "you didn't expect me to believe you had gone all soft now, had you?"

Giles again held his silence, though ever fiber of his being was tempted to throttle the man for his arrogant expression and twice as hard for the smug, knowing look on his face.

"I stand by what I said two years ago," Quentin said softly, as though an afterthought, "you really do have a _father's_ love for the girl, don't you?"

"Buffy," Giles replied, his tone taking on a harder edge. "Her name is Buffy."

"Nevertheless, you have spared us from a difficult choice had the Ministry succeeded in what they were planning on doing to the girl. To render her unconscious before we could find her, it was ingenious. They certainly caught onto our plan."

"Which is what, exactly?" Giles asked coldly. "You want to keep her alive as a… a plaything?"

"Goodness no," Quentin replied, shaking his head and chuckling. "We aren't monsters. At least, most of us are not. What we have planned for her goes beyond Potter or Dumbledore. She is the future, a next generation of—"

"If you really think that you have her loyalty after what you forced her through, you're sadly mistaken." Giles' tone had lost all calmness. His fists were clenched and his breath was ragged. Just staring at the man was a mentally exhausting exercise.

"We have no need of her loyalty," Quentin said, the faintest smile appearing on his lips as he lifted his right arm, the Dark Mark flashing into view. "We have her soul. The Slayer belongs to us now. She can't fight it. She can't defeat it. Her only way out is death." At seeing the horrified expression on the other man's face, his laughter grew.

"There will come a time when all of this is over and you are all dead," Giles said evenly, taking a step closer to the older man. His face was within a foot of the old coot, yet he felt like he had to defend something – his honor, his choices, anything to hide the deep feeling of guilt in knowing that his choices would confine his Slayer to a dark existence. "On the day, I will be there."

"We are not too unlike, you and I," Quentin replied. "We do what we have to do to ensure the power of survival. Or, should I say, the survival of power. Lord Voldemort will defeat Harry Potter and the world will belong to him. Like it or not, your days of hiding your head in the sand are over. You're going to have to own up to it eventually, Rupert. You'll have to tell her. After all, if she discovers that you were the one that betrayed the Ministry by keeping her alive… well, now, what does that say for you?"

For this, even as he watched the man swagger into the shadows, he had no answer.

x-o-o-x

Next Chapter: The two Slayers are reunited.

And… a taste of things to come: Buffy returns with her Watcher to Hogwarts just as Harry makes the most difficult decision of his life. Faith, finding herself at a crossroads, will risk everything to follow her instincts. Buffy will see her old friends and past love again as some will come to aid and others will hinder, but not is all as it seems. The end is nigh. The choices are never easy. Some will die. Many more will suffer. How will it end? How can it end? They will become an army. The whole world is waiting to see what one can do. It's time to show them. It's time to show who the chosen one really is…


	17. I Am Your Sister

**Author's Note: **Everyone deserves something a little dysfunctional. This chapter is a mixed pot of just about everything.

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 17**

**I Am Your Sister**

x-o-o-x

"Our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive."

- Don Miguel Ruiz

x-o-o-x

As soon as Buffy and the others left the Entrance Hall, the familiar murmur of voices overtook them, silencing only as the door closed behind them.

Buffy could barely catch her breath before she let out, "That was…"

"Strange," Emma finished, tilting her head as she considered what she felt walking through those doors again. "It looked smaller."

"It seemed darker to me," Oliver agreed, leaning against the wall and pushing his hands into his pockets. "Like there weren't as many candles."

"I lost count at three hundred," Percy said dryly, watching as Buffy joined Oliver at his part of the wall. His eyes watched as Buffy casually slipped her arm through his, her fingers circling the wrist. "I felt like it was… less intimidating somehow."

"That's considering until last year you were only there to arrest Dumbledore and expel Harry," Buffy commented, sighing at the memories.

"Seems like so long ago," Percy replied.

Emma walked over and sat on the floor near the stairs. "I thought I was done with this place."

"Sometimes," Buffy murmured, her eyes staring at the ceiling and finding herself half-wondering if it had always been so high, "I wonder why I left."

There were voices behind a doorway suddenly. Emma quickly scampered to her feet and backed away as the door leading to the Slytherin dungeons banged open. Two figures slipped through. One was someone Buffy didn't recognize. The other set Buffy's Slayer-sense into a frenzy.

The figure turned to sneer at the figures lounging in the Entrance Hall until she recognized the blonde one staring right at her. The sneer fell away and she found her body freezing. The other figure was male and brushed past her into the Great Hall.

"No way," Emma murmured, taking in the shape of Faith Landing standing in the hall in Slytherin's green-and-silver colors.

"Unbelievable!" Percy gasped, pulling Emma back beside him out of instinct. Emma gave him an annoyed look as she pushed his arm away.

This, however, didn't seem to faze Faith a bit. Her eyes were glued to Buffy's. "Looking good, B," Faith finally said, moving closer to the group. Percy and Emma backed away. Oliver even cleared his throat and took a protective step forward. Buffy, on the other hand, released his arm and gently nudged him away as she moved towards her sister Slayer.

"You're looking quite student-like yourself, Faith."

"What can I say? I make this look good," Faith replied, glancing down at the shapeless robes and the loose blouse that did absolutely nothing for her figure.

"I didn't know you were back."

"I didn't know _you _were back," Faith retorted, a dark shadow passing her face. "Someone could've told me."

It seemed that there was a silent understanding passed between them, something that existed since they first met. Last year they had grown closer than ever, mainly because they shared a dark destiny. But now… Faith was wearing the Slytherin colors and walking around with the reattached chip on her shoulder. There wasn't a Witch or Wizard in Slytherin that hadn't gone bad. Mostly, she had hoped that if Faith ever found herself wanting to become a student again, she would have chosen Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, something unassuming that would allow Faith to thrive. Watching Faith in Malfoy's house brought painful memories of her own year at Hogwarts, something she wasn't willing to face all over again.

Faith watched Buffy, hating how the young woman looked. She looked… different. Pasty wasn't quite the word. She looked starved. Or maybe she just needed a good poke and a bit of a loosening of the stick firmly up her behind. But nothing compared to the way Buffy looked at her. There was fear in her eyes, like Faith wasn't something she expected. Buffy wasn't what she expected, either. Since finding out Buffy was in a coma and basically near death, she expected someone a little more pissed off at the world. Instead, this passive Slayer was a little… unsettling.

The doors behind Faith opened and Professor Dumbledore stepped out. He keenly looked at Faith over his spectacles before resting a hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Black, if you would. You have little time before your first lesson."

Faith forced herself to swallow before turning away from the Slayer, breaking eye contact. "Yes, sir," she said, giving Professor Dumbledore a slow nod before pushing her way into the Great Hall.

Before the Headmaster could open his mouth again, Buffy felt her own curiosity piqued. "What is she doing here?"

The Headmaster closed his mouth and fixed Buffy with a stern gaze. "If you would come to my office, my dear, I believe an explanation may be in order."

Buffy watched as the old man walked serenely down the corridors. With a heavy sigh, she followed, hearing the footsteps of her friends behind her. She couldn't blame them; they had to be as curious about this as she was.

x-o-x

Within a few moments time, all four were settled in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. He sat down in his chair comfortably, his eyes scanning each of his former students before he held up a hand. "Much of this can be reserved for the Order, but I do have two questions, both of which I am certain you will answer."

"We'll try our best, Sir," Emma replied.

"Did he say Order?" Oliver asked, frowning. "I was never asked to join any Order."

"Don't worry," Percy said darkly. "I was never in the Order either."

Emma's look was decidedly smug as she eyed both men.

"Mr. Weasley, you have attended Order meetings in the past with Ms. Summers," Dumbledore reminded Percy gently while trying to overlook the daggers Oliver was currently sending to his girlfriend. "Ms. Summers is not at fault for this, Mr. Wood. I asked her before her mission to Bulgaria to maintain her silence."

Oliver took a deep breath and nodded, though he really didn't understand why he'd been left out of this.

"Now, Ms. Summers, welcome back. You may be wondering why I use your former name instead of your true one…" His eyes twinkled at the smile on her face. "I daresay that you will be yourself again in no time. I will ask you however… where is Mr. Giles?"

There was a moment of silence as the four exchanged looks. "We… we don't know," Emma replied, glancing at the Headmaster. "He ditched us right after we arrived back in London."

"I assumed he went to his former flat to clean up and stuff, but we haven't seen him," Buffy said, shaking her head.

A grave look crossed Professor Dumbledore's eyes before he turned back to them, adding another bright smile. "I see you have returned together and have looked after one another. I would expect nothing less for Gryffindor behavior. I would assume you've been made aware of the circumstances for the magical world being on its highest alert?"

Buffy tuned out Percy's monotone as her thought fell back to Giles. Where was he? All he had said was he'd find them soon, but he hadn't said a date or time. In fact, he'd looked anxious. Why hadn't she picked up on it? Was she so into herself and her boyfriend that she was neglecting her Watcher? What sort of Slayer was she?

It was then she noticed that her friends were standing up, looking relieved. Dumbledore said something about apprising them more during the next Order meeting. When Oliver opened his mouth to protest, Professor Dumbledore kindly intervened and invited him to the next meeting if he wanted to come, but suggested that he might not find it useful. Oliver seemed to bristle at that and marched out of the office without a backwards glance. Buffy was on her way out when she heard a kind voice calling her back. She turned and saw Professor Dumbledore beckoning her back. At Percy's worried look, Professor Dumbledore excused him. She heard the door slide shut behind her as she sat again. The Headmaster also sat, but when he spoke again his tone of voice was completely different.

"I am concerned about your Watcher."

"I am, too," Buffy sighed, glancing up. "I've been such an idiot. I'm so wrapped up in Buffy stuff that I completely forget the man saved my life. I should never have let him leave, especially when there are so many out there looking for me. They probably know by now that we're back in the country—"

"Ms. Summers, the fault is not your own," Professor Dumbledore said firmly. "At least, not entirely. There are bigger concerns at the moment. You have missed much while you were, shall we say, asleep."

"I realize that," Buffy murmured.

"Unfortunately, time is no longer on our side. Lord Voldemort will soon know that you've awakened. He will move soon, I fear."

"What makes you so sure he won't wait?" Buffy asked. "I mean, I know he has followers along with the Dementors, the Inferi, his Death Eaters…"

"You don't know him as I do," Professor Dumbledore replied. For the first time, Buffy noticed the deep lines of age that surrounded his eyes. He looked wary and tired, every bit the old Wizard he was. But this was not the time for him to be weak. He was their great general, leading them into battle. He had to hold it together. "You and your sister Slayer are his weapons. To possess you both would bring him immeasurable power, seeing as how close you both are to the one hope our world has left."

Buffy heard her parents' voices in her head and closed her eyes. "You won't have to worry about me, sir."

His eyebrows lifted as he surveyed the deadly serious expression on her face. "You do know what your destiny entails?"

"Every bit of it," Buffy said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "But let me make this absolutely clear to you. What I just went through… I _never _want to be a part of that. What they did to me… how far they were willing to go… I'd die before I let myself hurt my brother. If it happens, if he activates me or pushes a switch or whatever he's going to do, I'll destroy myself to save him. My parents died for him to give him something, to give him a future. What right do I have to take that away from him?"

Professor Dumbledore let out a long breath and glanced down at his fingers. They were pressed together in a small triangle on his desk. He fought a smile as he glanced up at the young woman. Every uncertainly from the year before was gone. Every last trace of anxiety was gone. Her hazel eyes reminded him so dearly of her father's. But the darkness in her face intrigued him. "You speak of—"

"I don't know where the hell I was," Buffy replied sharply. "I'm not really sure I was dreaming. It was real. It felt _so _real. I was in this world and I was me and my parents were there. So was Harry and we actually had a sister, Dawn. There wasn't any of this, but they were there and I…"

"They?" he asked lightly.

"The Death Eaters," she spat out. "And when you speak of them committing torture and cruel acts upon humanity, let me tell you I get it. Message sent, perfectly clear."

Professor Dumbledore was watching her carefully. Her agitation was growing and he quickly stepped up to quell it. "Ms. Summers…"

"I can't tell my friends what I've been through because they wouldn't get it. The only people who get are the ones who've been through this before. You know what I mean. You have to. It's… it's going to be bad, isn't it?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely. "This may not be a fight we can win. Many have already died. Hope is fading fast."

"No," Buffy said resolutely. "No. We can't let that hope fade."

"The longer this war is prolonged, the worse things will get," Professor Dumbledore said softly. "If we let things sit too long, we will lose this war. This school will be under Lord Voldemort's control and the world of magic will be his to control."

"I don't accept that," Buffy said flatly. "And you don't either. Otherwise you wouldn't have brought Faith here. You know she's a danger to Harry but still, she's here. And she's in Slytherin?"

"That was the choice of the Sorting Hat and not my own choice," Professor Dumbledore said. The Sorting Hat lifted its point up, eyes peering over the brim to the two talking below before relaxing back into its subtle position. "I believe it was her choice to return and her reasons were true."

"Harry," Buffy scoffed.

"It was either him or Sirius," Dumbledore replied gently. "Frankly, I see the latter."

"Right, because Faith would leap to save her brother when she can trounce mine," Buffy said dryly. "I don't think Faith is here for her brother. I think she came for mine. In case you haven't noticed—"

"I am well aware of the connection between them," Dumbledore said sharply. "Do not underestimate an old man's mind. Perhaps it would be good for them both."

Buffy eyed the Headmaster with growing alarm. Since when did a Slytherin seem good for a Gryffindor – not looking over her own instance with Draco, anyway?

"Perhaps this is something you care to bring up with Faith yourself," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair. "Until then, you are welcome to stay at Hogwarts, though I believe you have a home of your own in London. Should you decide to look after your brother and your sister Slayer, you may. The Order will meet Friday evening to discuss what options we have. It would mean a great deal to many if you were to be there." At seeing the look on her face, he added, "Students will not be invited. You may choose to share what you will if you must."

"Even Faith?" Buffy asked, wondering if Dumbledore would shut Faith out of her own home.

Professor Dumbledore gave her a slight smile as he gestured to the door, which was slowly turning into its opening. "Even Faith."

x-o-x

Wesley was curled up in a comfortable chair, a book settled on his lap. Despite the fact that his Slayers had regarded him as an inexperienced ninny, he was ready to show he was anything but. And yet, Faith was in class everyday, so he spent his time in the Hogwarts library reading. On other occasions, he would take a walk down to Hagrid's hut and visit with the gamekeeper. He really had no desire to go to Hogsmeade despite who invited him. A cup of tea with a certain Auror would cheer him up greatly, but he had more important things to think about.

His eyes moved to a shadow that crossed his path. He set the look aside and leaned forward, recognizing the figure. This is the one he had been fantasizing about, the one that bumped the rating of his dreams to adult. There she was in all of her purple-haired, Technicolor glory.

"You know," he said drolly, watching as the figure moved along the shelves to his left, "you really do stand out."

"Not my intention," came the whispered reply. His lips curved into a smile as Tonks slipped from the stacks and moved closer to him. "I'm working."

"As am I," Wesley said, indicating the book. It was a clever text on the workings of supernatural beings. Of course, the Slayers weren't mentioned. They hadn't been mentioned in any of the dozens of books he'd checked – and most came from the restricted section. But he had another reason for researching other than picking apart false legends in school textbooks. They involved an amulet given to his Slayer by the American Wicca and her friend.

"I'm working harder," Tonks said, cheerfully knocking into a table and sending a few other books flying to the floor. She ignored them as she took the cushy chair across from Wesley, gazing at the unshaven man in front of her. "You look dreadful."

"It's what every gentleman wants to hear in the morning," he said dryly, giving her a pointed look. She looked charming as usual. Dark eyes in a heart-shaped face framed by that hair… she was every bit as delicious as she appeared in his dreams.

"Sorry about that," Tonks said, breaking eye contact and gazing at her nails instead. "I heard there's another Order meeting at Sirius's on Friday."

"You heard correctly," Wesley confirmed. "I still won't forgive you for the crack on my appearance, however."

Tonks blushed, the pink hue adding life to her otherwise pale face. "I did say I was sorry."

"Maybe I don't accept that," Wesley teased, enjoying the flush slowly working its way down her neck.

The woman cleared her throat and forced herself to look away. Maybe this was the reason she had been avoiding Hogwarts. Since they spent time together at Christmas, things had seemed more awkward. Maybe it was because of Remus. Things between both men were cool at their best and she couldn't fault either of them for their taste. She decided to throw in the other piece of gossip she'd heard on her way up from Hogsmeade. She had actually seen it herself, but hadn't really done anything. After all, there were more important things to see to.

"I also assume you haven't been told about Buffy," she said, leaning back in her seat, her arm edging an oil lamp closer to the end of the table.

"I haven't been told anything," Wesley said, leaning forward and setting the book on a nearby table. "What do you know?"

"She's back," Tonks said happily. "She walked into the school not an hour ago before Dumbledore whisked her away to his office."

"Has Faith seen her?"

"I don't know," Tonks replied. "I would assume she hasn't because I don't think Buffy was in the Hall for more than a minute or two."

Wesley ran his tired hands over his face. "I would hope that we would have a few hours' peace before those two are back at it again."

"What makes you so certain that they'd start rowing?" Tonks asked him lightly. "I thought you told me they were sisters in the cause."

"They share a sisterly destiny, yes," Wesley replied with a groan. "But Buffy is a graduate from Gryffindor. Faith is a Slytherin, rooming in the house that Buffy detests. And, in case you haven't noticed, your cousin hasn't exactly been Gryffindor-friendly as of late."

"I am aware of that," she said softly. "Perhaps they can work past that."

Wesley scoffed under his breath. He was reminded of when he first met the Slayers. Buffy had wanted to kill him and Faith… well, Faith had just walked right out. Now, Faith was his charge actually listening to him and training. He wasn't sure what Buffy was going to do. Part of him wanted to see her while the other part wanted to steer clear. He would just have to wait until she came to him – providing she figured out he was there. For now, that was safest. He had more than enough to handle with one Slayer. Having both in the same place again was as effective as painting a target over the school.

x-o-x

Faith, on the other hand, was staring at her roommate's watch during the horridly boring Charms class, desperate to get out. She was half-considered ditching classes but forced herself to endure one torturous hour after another. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great fun either. Both McGonagall and Flitwick seemed oblivious to the fact that her entire world had just turned upside down. Or had it just righted itself? She didn't know anymore.

Something that Harry said about her being the head Slayer echoed in her mind. Something about responsibility, wasn't it? Yeah, right. Like she could ever handle that sort of responsibility. She was more of the middle-of-the-road take-it-as-you-go types. Maybe that was what Harry was attracted to. Maybe he liked that she didn't follow ordinary rules. If she still followed rules, she'd be back on the Hellmouth whining about not being here. Instead, she was exactly what she had sworn to herself she'd never be again: a student. Not only that, but she was a student actually enjoying doing student-like things. She liked sitting in class listening to semi fascinating things. If only they had done this back in her Boston schools, maybe she would have stayed in instead of dropping out.

Her best class was easily Herbology. She didn't need magic in order to plunge her hands into blood-red earth and dig out magical seeds that sprouted into albino pumpkins. She certainly didn't magic to knot up the spider-like ferns that kept copping a feel. She didn't have to feel like such a dunce like she did in Charms. She didn't really know why they let her sit in on these classes anyway: her magic wasn't just ineffective, it didn't exist. She stared at Juliet as she held her wand, her attention focused on the empty goblet in front of her. She was supposed to charm the goblet into filling itself nonverbally. At least Professor Flitwick had stopped giving her a goblet to practice on.

She let out another long breath, her hands tapping the table impatiently. They had an hour to go in the double period, but she didn't want to be here. She was tired. Wesley had had her in the Dark Forest patrolling until the middle of the night. By the time she'd dropped into bed, the first edge of pink had appeared on the horizon. Yawning, she forced her attention back to Juliet. The goblet had filled itself with something delicious and steaming. Faith inhaled the smell as Juliet sat back in her seat, pleased.

"What is that?"

"Hot mead," Juliet whispered back, grinning. "You ever had it?"

"No," Faith replied, snatching the goblet and risking a sip. It tasted like mead, all right. She handed the goblet back, swallowing. Hot beer did nothing for her.

"It tastes better in the bottle," Juliet teased as Professor Flitwick stopped in front of her. He asked her to do the counter-spell which Juliet was all too happy to do. Faith let her eyes wander instead over to where the Gryffindors were sitting. There were seven of them in this class, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was sitting there with her own full goblet wearing a smug look, as usual. Faith wondered what was up with that. The girl took such pride in being a superior know-it-all that it seemed to annoy her best friends more than anything. But she did notice that the girl looked more relaxed. She even teased Ron as the red-faced boy prodded his still-empty goblet with his wand. Harry sat on Hermione's opposite side with a filled goblet talking happily with Neville Longbottom who sat in front of the trio. She sighed as she took in the look on Harry's face. It was joy. Pure joy.

How she longed to feel that wonderful about something again.

"Hey." Juliet's elbow had found her ribs. Faith massaged her side as she glared at her friend. "You need to pay attention."

"To what?" Faith asked irritably. She turned back in her seat to find Harry staring at her. She quickly broke eye contact and looked back to Juliet, reaching for the goblet. "Why don't you show me how you did that?"

"Now she wants to learn," Juliet sighed dramatically as she turned her attention back to the task. But she couldn't resist a smile. She'd heard through the grapevine (basically the Patil twins) of the predestined hormonal exchange between her friend and roommate and the chosen one. Well, they were both chosen. It didn't mean that they really had to act so bloody stupid about it. It was obvious Faith had a thing. Usually when she had a thing, she took it no matter the cost. Harry Potter happened to be her thing. Why she wasn't taking him was beyond her.

Besides, she thought as she eyed a frustrated redhead below, she had her own thing to worry about. As his eyes met hers, she positioned her wand to show him exactly what to do before raising her eyes to her goblet. Her focus found the task and moments later she heard the splash of liquid inside her goblet. She knew he was still watching her. She only hoped he would be able to get it. Stupid, proud Gryffindors.

At last the class came to an end. Faith was given more reading to do (she still had about four books waiting for her down in the dungeons) and she happily left the classroom behind. Juliet tagged along with her, though her attention was diverted elsewhere. As they passed the courtyard, she caught a sole figure out by the fountain. Her feet stopped walking. She heard cries of annoyance as students were forced to go around her, in their hurry to get to the next lesson. Faith suddenly didn't care much for Muggle Studies. Her eyes were on the figure sitting at the fountain staring off into the distance. Faith took a deep breath and figured that the time had come to set her pride aside. This was her sister. This was her moment. She stopped in front of Buffy, finally capturing her attention. Buffy lifted a thin hand to hide what little sun peered through the dreary fog and stared up at her. "Hello, Faith."

"Hello, yourself."

x-o-x

Buffy had been wandering around Hogwarts for a few hours. She knew that students were in classes and she respected that. But she felt out of place here. It seemed so different.

She walked through the case where special awards for school services had been handed out. Her hand trailed on the glass as she read Cedric's name inside. She gave a soft smile as she remembered the way he looked at her, the way he held her when she was down…. No, she couldn't think of that. That never happened. No matter how real it was, he was a figment of her imagination and he was dead. Her father's name was also there. She thought of her father then and shook her head again. It was getting harder to get the mental images of her parents from her head especially as they hadn't been her parents. Oh, in name and physical characteristics maybe but…

From there she had moved onto the science lab. She had never spent time in here as it was mainly used for those taking some science class. Or maybe it was used by the medical staff. She wasn't sure why there was a room full of telescopes and chalkboards and boxes labeled 'science' for. She had never bothered to ask.

The medical wing she passed rather quickly. After waking up and dying in her dreams, both times in a hospital, she'd seen enough of them to last her a good long while.

She rode the moving staircases a few times until she was sure that the portraits on the walls were making fun of her.

After that, she began to wonder where her friends had gone. She was sure Percy had slipped off to the Ministry while she was occupied. She couldn't fault him. That was his job and his responsibility. She supposed Emma had gone with him. She had worked at the Ministry when the attack came. Oliver was probably off making contact with his family. She thought of his family for a moment as the staircase clicked into place. She stepped off and down another corridor, spying the fountain in the courtyard. Dreary sunlight filtered through the fog. It was still chilly outside, but she chose to risk it. The cool air felt refreshing on her skin.

She sat, listening to the sounds of the crows in the distance. She wasn't a big nature-girl, but she did occasionally enjoy this. Okay, so this wasn't the nice California weather she was used to. She much rather preferred her March instead of this frozen tundra. But it wasn't only the weather that concerned her; it was the air. The air itself seemed brimming with evil.

A bell tolled in the distance. Her eyes watched as students passed in the corridor, hurrying away from the cool air. Her eyes stared off into the distance. She could almost see her own golden hair bouncing along as she teased Emma or Katie about something. They were with her, chatting about classes or boys or Hogsmeade, this and that. It seemed like such a simpler time back then.

The gravel in front of the fountain crunched softly. Her senses were alerted to the presence of someone with a lot of power. Her eyes shifted. A hand lifted up to shield what little sun there was from her eyes as she gazed at her sister Slayer. "Hello, Faith."

The figure dropped down on the cold concrete next to her. "Hello, yourself."

"Did you fancy a nice winter stroll or did you actually want something?"

"No, I just came here for myself," Faith replied casually, watching as the last stream of students disappeared. The bell would toll again but her Muggle Studies professor could stuff it for all she cared. This was between her and B. "And for you."

"I'm touched, really, but—"

"No, really. I want this out in the open," Faith replied, sounding amused. Buffy turned her attention to her sister Slayer. "So, let's start over again. Hi, my name is Faith Landing but I go by my alias Delita Black. I'm a Slytherin because that stupid hat thought that I would be a good person to prove my house wrong. Silly little thing, eh?"

"If we're being so proper," Buffy replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm Buffy Summers. I also go by Buffy Potter. I'm a Gryffindor graduate and an outcast, a pariah, a Slayer and fortunately a survivor."

"Now that we got that out of the way," Faith said, jumping to her feet. "It's frickin' cold out here. Let's go inside!"

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for missing classes?"

"This is me you're talking to," Faith replied, tugging Buffy's arm as they walked back into the warmth of the corridor. They continued for a little ways until they found an unused classroom on the ground-level floor. "I quit going to school two years ago. I'm amazed I've lasted this long."

"How in the hell do you manage?" Buffy asked as she sat down at a table, rubbing her hands together to warm them. "I mean, you don't exactly have the magic bug."

"There are classes that aren't all juicing with the mojo," Faith replied. "I mean, I've got the gardening class which is cool. I get to beat up plants. There aren't many people who take pride in that."

Buffy looked amused as she rested back in her chair. "Only you, Faith."

"Muggle Studies is interesting if you want to learn about what you do. There are only so many pictures I can draw of someone answering a telephone. I can't draw more than stick figures. So I figure I can take my Acceptable and move on."

"Have you done any career planning?" Buffy asked. She sounded genuinely interested.

Faith frowned. This was the first time that anyone had shown an interest in her life beyond Hogwarts other than her being a Slayer. Wesley had been talking about preparing for a life like Buffy's, but she didn't want that. Buffy's life as an outcast was crude and lonely and was definitely not something the elder Slayer deserved. She was better than that. She had earned more than that. "I was thinking of being a little school teacher. Give me one of those rulers and those miniskirts any day. I figure if I can charm a naughty professor or two, take 'em for a ride…"

Buffy crossed her arms and leaned back. "I'm being serious."

"So was I. I have no idea what I'm gonna do when I get out of here. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not you."

"Hmm. I think I got that memo from your accent."

"I have an accent?" Faith inquired.

"You don't sound like anyone here."

"Didn't notice," Faith shrugged. "I guess I'm just trying to blend in."

"See, that's the thing I don't get about you," Buffy replied, tapping a finger to her chin. "You seem so cool and five-by-five about everything and yet you don't exactly blend in. If anything, you stand out. Maybe you like it when you're out."

"But I'm not of the out. I'm in the in. I want to be out of the light for once," Faith whined as Buffy rolled her eyes again. "That made no sense."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"I think I got about two hours last night," Faith replied, stifling a yawn. "Wesley kept me out pretty late."

Buffy suddenly sat up in her seat, her eyes sharp and direct. "Wesley? Wesley's in England?"

"Yes and yes," Faith said slowly. "You didn't know, did you?"

"I've been kind of out of the loop lately due to my being in a coma and all."

"It's done wonders for your complexion."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Faith glanced down at the table and noticed she was absentmindedly rubbing her thumb along a ridge. "As for your job, did you ever find out what happened to anyone else on your team?"

"No."

"No?"

Buffy glanced down and shrugged. "I haven't seen or heard from Giles since two days ago," she sighed. "When we got off the plane in London, he just vanished. I don't know. I'm worried about him. I need to talk to him, clear this all up."

"What do you think happened to your team?"

"I think they're dead."

"That's not very optimistic."

"Never said I was."

"Ooh, B… not very Gryffindor of you."

Buffy was quiet for a moment before she started laughing. "And why did you get sorted into Slytherin?"

"I personally think Dumbledore hates me."

"He doesn't hate anybody. If he did, he wouldn't have let Voldemort in as a student all those years ago."

"He was a student here?" This Faith didn't know.

"About fifty or so years ago. A young man by the name of Tom Riddle. He was in your House… I can't believe that no one mentioned it. Draco finds it a pride thing."

"Yeah, about Malfoy…"

"The way that everyone back then thought he was all special made some kind of wonder, but that's just them. Personally, I never respected anyone in Slytherin."

"Gee, thanks," Faith said dryly. "I would also appreciate you not going around dissing my family."

Buffy waited for a beat before coughing, "What?"

"Malfoy, yo. He's my cousin. Well, sort of… I mean, his mother is my first cousin making him my family."

"That's just..."

"Sick? Duh. But I think he got over his little crush on you a long time ago."

Buffy's face was somber. "You didn't see the way he looked this morning."

"I thought he was going to cry," Faith admitted, leaning back in her chair so the front two legs lifted from the ground. "You almost made my Slytherin prince cry."

"I bet I could find more than one way to make him cry." There was that challenging gleam in Buffy's eye again. This was the one that made Faith proud of her. Why wasn't she normally wearing it? Faith didn't know. She didn't understand why Buffy was so casual about her reappearance. They had a great reason to get rid of her but here she was back; there was fanfare, hugs and relief. But there was little else. There wasn't any question as to why this had happened to her. There was no question at all in her eyes, no fire, not anything.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"Faith, please."

"What? You think because you've been sleeping all these months that I've been sitting on my ass doing nothing?" Faith asked incredulously.

Buffy was quiet for a moment before she stood up. Faith glanced up at her. The gleam was gone from her eyes. It was replaced by… fear? Sadness? Regret? What was this?

"B?" she asked tremulously as Buffy began to pace in front of her. "What is it? What happened?"

"It was a dream," Buffy said calmly, facing Faith with resolution in her eyes, "and nothing more."

"A dream?"

Buffy gave her a humorless smile. "It's why I didn't wake up. I was lost and I needed to be found."

"You were lost?" Faith asked, arching one eyebrow as she tipped forward in her seat again. She could hear chairs scraping the floor on the level above them but ignored the sounds. Buffy was definitely troubled with something.

"It's nothing."

"No, it isn't. Not if this is bothering you so much," Faith snapped, getting to her feet. "I think what you saw is getting to you."

"It'd get to you, too," Buffy replied coolly.

"Maybe if I knew what it was, I wouldn't be so—"

"It was like living a dream life," Buffy said quietly, her voice hidden by Faith's rant. The Slytherin shut her mouth and watched as Buffy sat down again, her eyes on the table. "I was happy there. It all made sense. I had my perfect family with my parents and my brother and my sister. I was engaged, I had a job, I was a hero and I felt like I was free."

"But…?" Faith asked curiously.

"Perfection isn't always real, Faith," Buffy said sadly. "It falls apart when given the right chance. The Death Eaters were there and they killed me."

Faith eyed her sister Slayer warily for a moment until Buffy met her eyes. This was the truth; every damn word of this was the truth. "Buffy, I—"

"There isn't anything to say," Buffy said simply. "I lived that and now I'm back and things don't make sense anymore. I don't know why I'm alive."

"You don't think you're important to us, to me?" Faith asked. "No, B. You're alive because you wanted to be."

"Something like that, yeah," Buffy replied. She didn't have the heart to say that the only reason she was alive was because her parents came to fish her out from her subconscious wounds. "I just wish I knew more about why I was hit, you know?"

"I'm just glad you're back," Faith sighed, moving over to Buffy and leaning against the table. "Things have been rough. People die. Things change."

"The Ministry?"

Faith chuckled as she nodded. "Yeah, the Ministry. That was just the beginning. There have been attacks almost daily. People are afraid to leave their homes, much less open their doors to strangers. Death Eaters are reported as walking down streets killing at random. The giants have been making a mess out of the south. The Dementors are breeding which is just perfect because all we need are more baby Dementors crawling around, and—"

"I get it," Buffy said in a tired voice. "Things have been bad."

"But not anymore," Faith replied. "You're here now. The light's off of me."

Buffy almost started laughing. "What, so we're trading responsibility now?"

"I wasn't made to be the chosen one, Buff. We're supposed to be the chosen two."

"As in chosen destiny?" Buffy asked, pushing her chair back. "That's a laugh."

"Come on, B—"

"No, you come on," Buffy replied, turning to face Faith. "I am your sister. Do you hear me? In everything but blood, I am your sister. That means we share. This thing on our arms? We both have that." At Faith's wince, she ploughed on, cutting off Faith's retort. "This means that we're both in this up to our pretty, pretty heads until the end. This means that Harry is the most important thing to us. He has to have our protection." At seeing Faith's stunned expression, she frowned. "What?"

"The mark on your arm may have been given as a gift to you, but I'm not sure about mine," Faith said, making a mental note to show Buffy the letter from Evan Rosier later. "As for Harry needing our protection, I'm the last person to be around him right now."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I, well… he… and I… well…" She rolled her eyes, hoping for the blonde to catch on. As Buffy's eyes widened, she hoped the elder Slayer was on the mark.

"You mean, you two… no way! No way!"

"But then I said no, we can't be together. I was destined to kill and he's destined to live and it just wouldn't work out." She knew her excuse was lame, but it was better than explaining the whole damn thing out now.

"You remember Angel? Tall broody guy with the forehead? The one that I almost killed because I loved him just that much? Yeah… this is starting to remind me of that."

"How are Harry and I reminding you of Angel?" There was another thing she needed to tell Buffy about, Angel being in England and all.

"Forbidden love, all mystical and fiery and yet…" Buffy gave her an appraising sort of look. "Do you like him?"

"Angel?"

"Harry."

"Well…" She couldn't lie to Buffy's face about this. She knew the truth was in her eyes. She looked down and scuffed the toe of her shoe into the floor which was proof enough for Buffy's question. "If I say yes…"

"I'll be relieved."

"Really?"

"Really. You I can tolerate. I'm not sure about those other Gryffindor girls just waiting to get their claws into him."

"Really?" Faith sounded worried now. Had she pushed Harry just far enough to go for someone else?

"Trust me, I lived with them for a year." Buffy sounded amused again. "And… I don't think you're wrong about the other thing. You two had this thing even before I left, before that whole mess with Hermione started."

"I think she's still in love with him."

Buffy's expression was all she needed to know that she was right.

"And, speaking of love, are you and—"

"We're together," Buffy said quietly. "It's just… it feels different now. Everything's changed."

"Tell me about it."

"Faith," Buffy said, suddenly taking Faith's hands. The other woman was so surprised she jumped from where she was leaning on the table. "Don't worry about Harry because we both know that if he wants you, he'll get what he wants. It's sort of your way, too. As for this whole living and dying scenario, his only way out in this world is to kill Voldemort. Don't be afraid to risk something to get everything, even if what you're risking is your heart."

"That was almost touching," Faith replied softly, taking her hands from Buffy's. "Almost award worthy." Swallowing hard, she decided to confess at least part of her sins. "While you were gone, Angel and Spike were in England helping me train."

A gentle smile lit Buffy's face as she noticed the uncertain look on Faith's face. "You really are finding your place in this world, aren't you?"

"I didn't want this," Faith confessed again, gesturing to the walls around her. "Do you really think I wanted to butt in and take your place? You're my sister, B. You're my family. We've got this huge thing and we should be dealing with it, but we're not. We're here because of one magical whiz kid and some prophecy that doesn't even concern us. Do you really think I'd be here if it weren't for him? I don't want to be here. I don't know magic. I can't even get my wand to work! But here I am!"

"This school shunned me after my stunt last year," Buffy said, glancing around her with a fond look. "I remember sitting at the Slytherin table because they were the only ones who would talk to me. That was when I found out who my friends really were. I found that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. We would get through this in one piece. But now…"

"People are going to die," Faith surmised. "It'll probably be us. It could be Harry. The rest of the world could fall, too."

"Is Harry even ready for this?" Buffy asked. "I mean, does he even know how huge this is? Everyone is freaking out about all of this bad happening and now the only one who can save us all is a seventeen-year-old Wizard."

"I think what freaks you out is that this could be the end of the world and you're not invited to the party."

"I think I'll crash it," Buffy replied, a small smile lighting up her face.

"Yeah. And when we get called to his evil's service…" Faith let her voice trail off.

"I have no problem with telling him to go to hell," Buffy snapped. "After what those Death Eaters put me through in that dream it'll be a delight to watch him stew. I hope Harry liquefies him."

"Lovely mental picture, that."

"Thank you."

They were further interrupted from their conversation by the timely arrival of Peeves. He stared at the two for a moment before uttering in his usual cackle, "Two little maniacs locked in a room, just like years before. A Potter and a Black, a Potter and a Black…"

"Thinks he means my dad and your brother?" Buffy asked as they moved past Peeves out into the corridors.

"Beats me."

x-o-x

Despite their best assumptions, Harry was taking measures to ensure that he was prepared for the last battle when the time came. That night promptly after dinner Harry bade Ron and Hermione farewell as they trekked back to the Common Room to complete copious amounts of homework. He, in turn, headed to Dumbledore's office. As usual, the Headmaster was waiting for him. He stepped inside the office and waited until the doors were sealed before taking his usual seat.

Dumbledore gazed gravely at him before looking down. "I trust that you have spent sufficient time with your sister."

"Err…" The truth was, he'd only spent a few moments with her that morning. He'd had classes all day. He also heard Faith had disappeared from her lessons after her first few in order to spend time with Buffy. He'd seen them together in the Great Hall parked at the end of the Slytherin table. Neither one was saying anything, but he figured it was the comfort of knowing that the other was alive that meant more than anything.

"I am concerned for her."

"What about, sir?" Harry asked politely. He had arrived for his lessons, not to spend quality time gossiping behind Buffy's back.

"Her return was welcome to many, I fear, but not to all," Dumbledore said heavily. "There are some who wish she remained asleep until your battle was over. But that is not to be the case. She will likely join in the fight at your side. You'll be hard pressed to find another like her, unless you look to her sister Slayer."

Faith wasn't someone Harry wanted to particularly discuss at that moment either, so he kindly brought the conversation back to the lesson.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair and gesturing towards a small pot set on a table near the corner. A slight silver vapor was rising from the pot as was the dreamy aura of mixed thoughts. This was Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where thoughts were stored and kept for later. Harry had been taking small journeys into the past, seeing Voldemort in his past form as Tom Riddle. They were just about to embark back to the time when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened. Harry wasn't eager to take this trip back – he had confessed to Dumbledore in their last meeting that he had seen this time period after reading Riddle's journal back in his second year – but this was something that had to be done. This was his history lesson.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to return to a time before he or his parents existed.

x-o-x

Even after three months of being abroad, the Ministry still looked relatively the same as the day they'd left it. Percy and Emma walked through the Atrium, staring at the efforts that had been made to restore it to its former glory. The golden fountain had been removed. The bank of elevators had been replaced. Only half of the fireplaces seemed active. The marble tile had been redone, looking all shiny and new. The air was thick with the smell of fresh paint. But most of all was a row of desks with armed Wizards awaiting them near the shaft that led to the other levels.

"Wands, please."

Percy and Emma both surrendered their wands. The ceiling was only partially repaired, large pieces still missing. The lights which had once lined the ceiling were still out. Light was being cast from hundreds of candles resembling Hogwarts' Great Hall.

Once they had been cleared, they both strolled to the row of elevators. One was active, run by another Auror. Both Percy and Emma entered and Percy gave the orders for the Minister of Magic's office. Once the lift reached that level, they were subjugated to another search before they were allowed into the hallway.

"This is a bit much, don't you think?" Emma asked him in a low voice. There were Wizards milling about, replacing panels on the enchanted walkway. What had once been a wall on either side had turned into a tunnel. They stared at the curved ceiling above their heads, the sun sparkling high above.

"I think it looks nice," Percy replied, squinting as he fixed his eyes on his former office. "Ah, here we are."

Emma took a deep breath as she walked inside. The office was empty for the most part except for two older Witches. Both glanced at Percy in surprise before exchanging a look. Percy greeted both warmly and moved to his makeshift desk, left the way it was from months before except for the copious amount of parchment atop it. The window behind his desk was completely hidden by stack after stack of parchment. Emma stopped on the other side, watching as Percy shifted his parchment and rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I think you're right at home," Emma teased after another moment.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Percy asked irritably.

"Ha ha," Emma murmured, glancing around. "Who did you find to take over as Minister of Magic?"

"I selected someone a great deal of Ministry employees voted for," Percy muttered as he began shifting aside large stacks of parchment. "He's from the Scottish regional offices. He's very… er…"

"Are you looking for something?" Emma asked, watching as Percy all but shoved a sheaf of parchment off of his desk in order to look through the stacks of paper underneath it.

"I left it here," Percy murmured to himself. "I could have sworn…" With a frustrated sigh, he stormed to the Minister of Magic's office and pushed the door open. Emma glanced over at the two women who were staring after Percy's shadow fearfully before moving to the exit. Emma hid a chuckle as she walked over to the overflowing file cabinets. Part of her was amazed that the records hadn't been touched.

Well, she thought after a moment, all but one of the drawers was untouched. She bent down and traced her fingers along the charred metal from the third drawer. She pulled it open, finding nothing but ashes inside. A single page of torn parchment rested atop a stack of ashes. "Percy?" she called, taking the paper and rising. She heard the man muttering behind her. "Perce?"

"What?" he snapped, storming out of the Minister's office. His face was red half out of frustration and half out of his efforts. His eyes went down to the torn scrap in her hands. "What is that?"

Emma's hands were shaking as she handed it over to Percy. Her eyes had darkened and had fixed into a deadly serious look. "You tell me."

Percy took the page and read what little was on it. Blinking, he glanced up at Emma, whose glare had turned fiercer. "Oh, Merlin…"

Emma just shook her head, her lips tightening as Percy glanced down at the page again. He couldn't even will himself to hold it any longer as it slipped from his fingers, tumbling to the floor.

x-o-x

Rupert Giles returned to Hogwarts late that night. He arrived with the Knight Bus – it had been his first time riding it – and was greeted at the Hogwarts gate by a group of Aurors. After convincing them he really was who he said he was, he was allowed in. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, allowed him entrance. Giles strolled up to the castle with the gamekeeper before taking a short detour and heading for a mug of mead. He had never spent much time with Hagrid, he'd only met him once during his last visit, but the half-Giant seemed pleasant enough.

It was nearing the middle of the night when he finally reached the castle. The caretaker opened the door, glowering at Giles the entire time as the man moved into the castle. After asking for a room to stay at, the caretaker went off grumbling into the darkness. A cat darted between his legs and Giles found himself wishing he despised felines.

After a few minutes, he was shown an empty room. It was actually the size of a closet. Giles called a happy farewell to the bitter man before tucking himself into his room. After setting his bag aside, he pondered for a moment. Making up his mind, he left the room. He was halfway down the corridor when he suddenly ran into another figure moving quickly towards him.

"Wesley!"

"Mr. Giles!"

Both men stopped moving and stared at one another for a moment. Giles quickly cleared his throat and stepped aside, allowing the younger man to pass.

"I heard you had returned," Wesley said with a frown.

"I just returned now," Giles stated. "I'm sorry if I gave you a fright."

"Yes," Wesley frowned. "Quite."

"Would you happen to know where Buffy is staying?"

"I wasn't aware she was staying at Hogwarts," Wesley replied, closing the book he'd been reading and hugging it to his chest. "Faith told me that she spent some time with her this afternoon but she said that things seemed oddly distant between them."

"My Slayer just spent the past five months in a coma," Giles replied quietly. "Of course she's going to seem distant with reality. The last time either of us checked, you were both safe in California."

"Safe?" Wesley scoffed. "Right. I was kidnapped by the wholesome good guys and locked in a room under intense questioning. The only time they let me out is when the Ministry of Magic was attacked. For what reason, I cannot begin to fathom—"

"I believe it has something to do with the Slayers," Giles cut in smoothly. "Specifically, I believe it has to do with Buffy."

"Why her?" Wesley asked curiously.

"She's Harry's sister."

"Faith is a Slayer, too," Wesley replied.

"Yes, I know she is also a Slayer. But Buffy is different. The Ministry wanted to keep her hidden, so they improvised a brilliant strategy to send her thousands of miles into the middle of nowhere."

"Faith returned here without any trouble," Wesley said, his brow furrowing. It seemed incredible that the Ministry of Magic would have so much interest in keeping Buffy hidden while Faith was allowed to thrive under the safety of Dumbledore's thumb. "As did I once I was made aware that Faith had returned to this world."

"I'm assuming that Faith came back for the same reasons Buffy did," Giles sighed.

"No, I'm pretty sure that she came back for Harry," Wesley chuckled. "And yet…"

"The Ministry of Magic doesn't care about Faith like that," Giles said, interrupting Wesley again. "They never did. Why they focused their attention on the elder Slayer I don't know."

"Do you mean the Death Eaters?"

"No," Giles said, shaking his head. "I'm speaking of the Ministry of Magic. I'm beginning to think they were the ones responsible for sending Buffy to Bulgaria and then poisoning her."

"Why would they do such a thing?" Wesley asked, horrified. "She is quite on our side."

Giles glanced at the younger man before swiping his glasses from his face to clean them. "She may be on our side, but so were you. Why did they feel the need to bring you to England and keep you under quarantine?"

"Perhaps they were worried that whoever murdered my father would return?" Wesley asked lightly.

"That could be one guess," Giles said darkly. "Or perhaps it could be that your father was her last Watcher and before that, you were named her Watcher."

"But… but she quit the Council."

"How would the Ministry know?"

"Buffy would have told them. She's not an imbecile."

Giles rolled his eyes as he pushed his glasses back on. "She's no idiot, that much is certain. But not everyone in the Ministry would have been aware that Buffy was out of the Watcher's Council. There are those inside the Ministry who are friendly to her. The young Weasley comes to mind. But, there are others in the Ministry who would see her become a Death Eater."

"The man who rescued me," Wesley uttered softly, "said that I was allowed my freedom because I was a Watcher. I'm almost certain he was a Death Eater."

"That makes sense…" Giles said slowly.

"It just doesn't make sense. Why would the Ministry want Buffy out of England? And why would they go to such lengths to keep her out of this war? Are they so certain she would answer to Voldemort that they deemed her a threat?"

Giles couldn't say anything. He remembered what Quentin had told him the night before. His hands began to tremble as he pushed them into his pockets. If the Ministry had been the ones to poison Buffy and he had saved her….

"Perhaps this is a discussion best kept for morning," Giles said brusquely. "We should get some rest. Morning will come soon."

"You're quite right. Good night, Mr. Giles."

"Good night, Wesley."

Giles turned and walked back to his door, pushing it open. Once inside, he let the door close before pushing back against it, pulling his glasses off. Inside, he could hear his mental barrage. _You fool_, he heard his conscience whisper. _You may have condemned her to a terrible fate._

As Wesley sped past, opening the book as he made his way to his door, a figure slipped out of the shadows. Faith had just returned from 'hunting' as she liked to call it when Wesley and Giles had run into each other. Buffy's verbal concerns about Giles suddenly made great sense.

Buffy's incarceration suddenly made sense. The Ministry had no idea what to do with her. They thought she was just some cannon ready to roll off the rack and make a splash? Why not ship her off to Bulgaria and be done with it?

But the part that disturbed her more was Wesley's question: why would the Ministry do such a thing? If they had poisoned Buffy… that must mean that everyone inside the Minister's secret circle would have been aware.

Anger as she hadn't felt for a great long while began to fuel her inner fire. Her eyes blazed as her hands curled into fists. Percy Weasley. The man had snuggled up to the Slayer to gain her trust before betraying her so wholly. She fought to breathe as she thought of his good intentions and how much she hadn't trusted him in the beginning, how much she still didn't. She had considered him someone who just had a petty crush, but perhaps this was something more. She had always thought he was sketchy, always thought he was capable of something like this. Hadn't Harry told her what Percy had done to him? All of a sudden, it made perfect sense that Percy was capable of such deception.

She stole down to the dungeons, sneaking around corners to avoid Mrs. Norris and the prowling caretaker always on her heels.

As she pushed her way into her room, she felt like tearing the room apart. Her anger was driving her energy which was suddenly exploding. She sat on her bed, her mind already formulating a plan. The next time she saw him, Percy was a dead man. She was going to make him pay for betraying her sister.

x-o-o-x

Next chapter: The last meeting of the Order of the Phoenix as well as another glimpse of Dumbledore's Army.

Author's note: Things are starting to pick up again. This story is finally on its closing course… there are only seven chapters left! I hope to have this story done by May. Honestly.


	18. You Are My Enemy

**Author's Note: **As always, my beta Grace rocks my world. She's been with me for almost the entire journey and I wouldn't have come this far without her. Through a hectic and sometimes muddled beginning to this bittersweet end, I owe you so much. From the late night idea throwing to her pages of notes and questions, it has helped me more than you can possibly know especially in the past year since I've been treated. And if thanking her isn't enough, I have to thank Aly, too. Her persistent nagging about two certain characters has definitely led to this moment.

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 18**

**You Are My Enemy**

x-o-o-x

"It is a sin to believe evil of others, but it is seldom a mistake."

- H.L. Mencken

x-o-o-x

Percy and Emma stood in silence, staring at the slip of paper on the floor between them.

"How long has that been there?" Emma asked in a breathless voice. Taking a deep breath, Percy bent down to retrieve the scrap.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I… I didn't know this existed."

"It was right there," Emma said, lifting her hand to point at what remained of the tarnished drawer. "Why would they go to the trouble to destroy one drawer? There are fourteen others right there. What was so important about this one?"

Percy shrugged as he inspected the drawer, handing the note back to Emma. "I'm not certain, but I think this is where all correspondence was kept between Minister Fudge and the foreign offices."

"Including Bulgaria?"

Percy sighed and nodded. "Likely Bulgaria."

Emma glanced back down at the scrap of parchment again. In large italic letters the script read, 'detain Slayer by necessary means'. "Do you think the Minister knew of this?"

"I'm almost certain he did," Percy replied, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against his desk. "But…" His memory took him back to just mere moments before the attack on the Ministry. Minister Fudge and Dolores Umbridge had been inside his office discussing Buffy. They had been the first to know that Buffy had been attacked. He could only assume that the Minister had known about the plan to keep Buffy 'detained' at whatever cost.

"Why her?" Emma asked in an angry voice.

"Because she was so close to all of us," Percy whispered in realization. He glanced at Emma, horror flashing in his eyes. "To me, to the school, to Harry…"

"But we both know she didn't do anything wrong!" Emma snapped.

Percy scoffed as he pushed the decrepit drawer shut with the edge of his foot. "Aside from giving her soul to the Dark Arts to become the ultimate Slayer? She scared a lot of people with that stunt."

"Percy," Emma replied in an aggravated voice. "You are her best friend. You have stood by her countless times when they questioned her identity and then again when they questioned her sanity. But when word gets out that the Ministry was responsible for her poisoning—"

"Whoa, whoa," Percy murmured, glancing at Emma. "Slow down, Em. What are you saying? Do you really think--?"

"I really do think," Emma said seriously. "If they wanted to keep her detained, it would make sense they would poison her. Mr. Giles did say that the man who attacked them both wore no Dark Mark. He could have been contracted by a foreign agency. Perhaps he was in league with Voldemort, we don't know. The Ministry has been under fire lately because of its inability to protect its public. What will happen to the credibility of the Ministry when the public discovers that it turned on its own hero's family?"

"I don't know," Percy said honestly. "I really don't. I wish I had the answers…"

Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder. "Percy, they need to know the truth."

"I can't do that to her," he said nervously. "Not now… not after she's been through so much."

"She deserves to know the truth," Emma shot back. "Percy, this isn't just some little thing. This is people's lives we're talking about here. Were you not the one who said you would do anything for her? How will she look upon you when she believes that you were part of the very institution that betrayed not only her brother, but her as well? You know what Umbridge did to Harry and you did nothing to stop it!"

"I was… that was a long time ago, Em."

"Nevertheless," Emma replied, sounding close to tears, "she needs to hear it from you. Tell her that the Ministry was the one that took her to Bulgaria and likely poisoned her. You didn't know anything about it!"

Percy stepped away from her, away from the entire mess, blinking hard as he thought. "They were worried about her," he murmured. "The day of the attack, they were talking about her attack. They said that they needed her out of there. They wouldn't have done this. They _couldn't_ have done this."

"If it wasn't Minister Fudge, it had to be someone from this office," Emma replied coldly. "We both know that there were Death Eaters and they were close to Fudge. Maybe it was Malfoy or Travers, I don't know. But don't justify this attack through her."

"They could have attacked the Ministry to ascertain her location…"

"They had someone on the inside," Emma murmured. "They had to have. Perce, you need to take responsibility for this."

"But if she believes the Death Eaters poisoned her, then her anger will be rightly just towards them."

"You're forgetting one thing, Percy."

He glanced up at her through his glasses. Her face wore a tired, sad expression as she leaned against the file cabinet. "What?"

"She's one of them. Whether you want to accept it or not, she bears that Mark. We have to believe that they wouldn't do anything to harm her. They have no reason to. If she believes that the Death Eaters were the ones that attacked her, then they win. When he activates the Slayers, do you have any idea where that anger is going to go? The entire world would be screwed because nobody has the power to stop that kind of anger. Nobody. Not even Harry, her own brother. That power almost killed her the last time it was activated."

"What would you have me do?" Percy asked in a low voice.

"Tell her that someone in the Ministry wanted her down, wanted her out. You went to rescue her because you believed that it was wrong. And I know that you're a puppeteer of this Ministry and I get that. I really do. But you have to take one for this."

"She may never forgive this government," he said, his tone shaking.

"But she may someday forgive you." Percy turned sharply to Emma, who wore a small smile. "You befriended her when she first came here. You stood by her when she went through the trials. You never left her side. Don't make that mistake now."

He chuckled as he turned back to the window, watching as the fake sun shone into the office. Drawing a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension melt away. "You're right. Since when have you been so brilliant?"

"I guess you never noticed," Emma replied with a wry grin as she glanced at the papers scattered on the floor. "I should be getting to my own office."

"You wouldn't leave me with this mess now, would you?"

"I guess I'm not in a rescue mood today," Emma replied with a laugh. "Besides, it'll give you something to think about other than all of this." She moved towards Percy and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "It'll be a nice change to see a man clean for once."

"You torture me," he groaned.

"But you like it," she replied cheerfully, removing her arm from his shoulders and sweeping from the office. Percy watched her go, thoroughly bemused. Since when had he valued her friendship? At Hogwarts, he didn't know she existed. And now, he couldn't imagine a day without her.

x-o-x

"Well, well, look who it is."

"It's good to see you, too, bro," Faith grinned, neatly stepping out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place. She looked fondly around the dining room, her eyes leveling on Remus Lupin. "Hey, Loony."

"Hello, Faith." Lupin sounded bemused today.

"So, what's the what? Why the call?" Faith asked, walking over and dropping down into a seat, which squealed in protest. Sirius sat down next to her, reaching for his tea. "You got some big end-of-the-world plans or do you just really miss your baby sister?"

"A little of both, actually," Sirius replied, rolling his eyes. "Actually, it's about—"

"Faith!"

Faith let out a small squeal at seeing a tall, brooding brunette and a smaller, peroxide form hovering in the doorway. "You're back!"

"They never left."

Faith glanced at the scowl on Sirius's face and jabbed him with her elbow as she brushed past them. "That isn't very hospitable now is it, Mr. Black?" She let out a long breath as she faced both vampires. "Have you heard?"

"That she's awake?" Angel asked. "Yes, your brother was kind enough to inform us."

"Yeah, what the big emotional lug is saying is that we want to see her, pet," Spike replied, cheerfully barging into the dining room and taking a seat on Sirius's opposite side. "Just to make sure for ourselves that she's good and all."

"Oh, she's great," Faith sighed, taking the seat next to Remus. "She just full of greatness. Unless you're like, you know, breathing. While I know you aren't, but damn! Something went down and she's taking it hard. I don't think she's all together up there."

She noticed that Remus seemed to be paying attention to what she was saying. Sirius was pointedly seducing his tea and was completely ignoring the vampires who had long since worn out their welcome. "You feel she's been through a traumatic event?"

"She's gone through them before," Faith protested. "Back when she killed Angel."

There was a pause before Angel crossed his arms and frowned. "She's right."

"No," Remus said quietly. "She isn't. Buffy is a resourceful girl—"

"Forgive me for saying this, Moony, but you don't have a frickin' clue what you're talking about," Faith snapped. "There's only one person in this country that has a clue what she went through."

"Willow," Angel said simply.

"Willow," Faith agreed. "And before you go on with your we-all-love-Buffy-because-she's-Harry's-sister bit, you have to remember that she was a person eighteen years before that, too. She killed Angel here and she managed to make it through."

"Faith—"

"No," she said sharply, turning at her brother's voice. "No. Let me say this. I need to get it out. Buffy's just a girl, you know? She's luckier than most because she's got this gift. She doesn't exactly love the job, but it's become a part of her. Enter young Potter. Girl's got a whole new life to worry about. So she does the school thing. She finds out that the Slayer is a bit darker than even black mojo and gets tagged for it. So now the bad guys want her to be one of them, the good guys want her to be one of them, but she isn't, you know? She's in a grey area."

"Does this diatribe have a point, Faith?" Sirius asked, massaging his head.

"I'm getting to it," Faith said, glaring at her brother. "She's got mojo and this gift and they sort of balance the other out, dark and light. But then someone decides to play with her and knock her out for a few months. What happens when she wakes up? She's a girl with no gift and little mojo. Something happened to her. Something big… something that broke her."

"You think she was tortured?" Angel asked quietly from his corner.

"By the good guys," Faith replied, leaning back in her seat, her rant done.

There was a ringing silence for a moment before Spike scoffed. "You've got to be bloody joking."

"No joke," she said seriously.

"What do you mean it was the good guys that tortured her?" Remus asked mildly.

"You've got no love for the Ministry, Moony. They ostracized you, had you hated enough to quit the Hogwarts gig. Imagine when someone with as much power as a Slayer comes in and threatens them with power. What do they do? They knock her out and leave her down."

"You are aware that you are accusing the Ministry of doing exactly what you say they did," Sirius said quietly.

"I don't have to accuse them," Faith snapped. "I know it's the truth. The Ministry doesn't deserve her. They don't deserve our help. They crossed a line here. She was doing the right thing. And when she finds out—"

"You're going to tell her?" Angel asked quietly.

"Damn right."

"Does your Watcher know?"

"I overheard him and Giles talking about it," Faith explained. "I came to my own conclusions."

"It's that bloody git, isn't it?" Spike asked. "The redheaded one with the hidden horns?"

"The one who supposedly loved her enough to go and save her life? You bet. He probably wanted to hide her away in that hellhole until the dark guys were toast. But that's not gonna happen now."

Angel sighed and dropped his head back on the wall. "I knew her returning here was a mistake."

"Do you… do you honestly realize what you're saying?" Sirius asked, flabbergasted. He loved his sister, certainly. But this was almost too much.

"You both know that the Ministry can't be trusted," Faith replied calmly. "They ostracized Moony, but you Sirius? They turned you into a fucking scapegoat. They didn't bother to consider for one damned second that you were innocent. Nope, they just threw you into Azkaban with those dementoids and threw away the key. They have no considerations for the heroes. They just break them and use them and throw them away. Say Harry does what he tries to do. He wins the final battle and all. Who will take credit for that victory? The government. Because that is what they do best."

"What are you suggesting?" Spike asked.

"We change the rules," Faith said simply. "We take it our way. We have two Slayers, two vampires and two witches. That leaves them with jack squat in the supernatural aside from the heavy mojo. We've been playing by their rules too long. And I'm sick of it."

"What about Harry?" Angel asked. "He does factor into the final battle significantly. We can't leave him unguarded. Even Buffy isn't unhinged enough to let that happen."

"We take him with us," Faith replied. "He probably hates the Ministry as much as we do. This was all about him in the beginning."

Remus and Sirius exchanged an uncomfortable look. They both knew that Harry's feelings towards the Ministry of late had cooled, but would he ever truly leave Dumbledore? Neither one chose to voice this concern and held their silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

Spike was staring hard at her. "I never knew you had it in you."

"What can I say?" Faith asked, tipped her chair back to lift her feet onto the table. "I'm feeling mighty rebellious of late."

"I'd say the Slytherin spirit is deep within you."

"I'd say it was a factor, yes," Faith drawled. "The problem is—"

"We'll go to Willow," Angel said suddenly. "We'll let her know what's going on. Then we'll snoop around, see what the underworld has got for us."

"Our very own playground," Spike murmured, his smirk growing.

"When the time comes, we'll act on Buffy."

"Let me worry about her," Faith assured Angel. "She's my sister. She'll listen to reason."

"There are those within that school and within the government who will not wish her to leave," Remus pointed out.

"I'll deal with them too, even if I have to kill them." At their surprised looks, she added, "What?"

"You may still need help," Sirius said, leaning onto the table. "You might be able to use the Order—"

"Absolutely not," Faith said sharply. "Do you know who's even in the Order? The Weasleys. Who, the last time I checked, like the new government. I don't trust them. I'm not too sure about the one who's the head of the Order, either."

"He can be trusted," Remus said quietly.

"You don't seem to get it, do you?" Faith asked, turning on him. "This was never about you. You can throw all your little magic people at us you'd like, but it doesn't change the fact that this is over. I'm done pretending I even care about this magical world. The only person who means anything is Harry Potter." She turned on Sirius. "You're his godfather. You'd give your life for him. So would I. We have ties over here, sure. But we're done waiting to see how your people could screw us next. Either you fight your own war and stop whining about people dying and actually _do _something or get out of our way."

Rising, she turned to Sirius. "Was there anything else, dearest brother?"

"No." He was quite taken aback by his sister's anger. It seemed as though Buffy's return had shaken the younger Slayer more than he knew.

"Good. Angel—"

"We'll take off after sundown," Angel replied, his eyes shifting to Sirius. "We do thank you for your hospitality, even if all we've been doing is giving you grief."

Sirius gave him a pained smile. "I do appreciate the fact you've been utter pains in my ass for the past few weeks, but the company was enjoyable." He cast a look at Remus, whose jaw had dropped. "But you're still my best mate, Moony."

"What are you going to do?"

"My job," Faith said, moving towards the fireplace. "I was brought to Hogwarts for my own protection. But I don't think that's gonna be a problem anymore. They're the ones who are going to need the protection once I'm through with them. I've got Harry and Buffy to watch over. It'll keep me busy. I can play student in the meantime."

"I think it'd be wise if you didn't mention this little insurrection to the Order," Spike added, turning to both Sirius and Remus. "We don't know how they'd react."

"They'd probably knock us both out again," Faith sighed.

"And Buffy?" Remus asked lightly. "Will you speak with her before the Order meets?"

"I don't think so," she said, her smile widening as she saw the flash in Remus's eyes.

"Now who is playing whom?" he asked mildly, but there was a hint of anger in the premature lines of his face. The thought of Dumbledore's trust betrayed by an unknown pawn irked him.

"You started it," Faith deadpanned as she took the Floo powder and threw it in the fire. "Slytherin Common Room, Hogwarts." Turning back, she gave both vampires a respective smile. Her eyes hardened when she turned to her brother and his best mate. "Love you, bro." A moment later, she disappeared.

x-o-x

"Hermione, I didn't know you were here."

Hermione set aside her book and glanced up as Harry walked into the Room of Requirements. "I just came early to do a bit of light reading. You?"

"I was thinking about the next meeting."

"Of Dumbledore's Army?" she teased, getting to her feet and setting the book aside. His eyes, which had been lingering around the room, landed on the book.

"Is that the one?"

"That's the one," Hermione breathed. "You just have to see it, Harry. It's beyond incredible. Some of these Wizards know their craft. And I believe it may be of use to you."

"Of use," Harry said humorlessly, sitting on the edge of the table and watched. "Have I said anything about how of use I feel lately?"

"Harry…" Hermione began.

"No, really. My big sister comes back and she says maybe three words to me and disappears. The world is falling apart and yet here I am, not even willing to do anything about it."

"Harry, you can't save everyone," Hermione said, getting to her feet and moving to the table where he sat, his eyes closed and a heartbreaking look on his face. "You can't save me. You can't save Ron. You can't even save Buffy. We're not the ones you have to worry about. People are dying and yes, I'll admit that it's hard to just run out and start war, but maybe it's time we do."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. He felt something of old feelings stir within him, reminding him of why he had fallen for her in the first place. "I'm not ready."

"You don't have to be ready, Harry. Do you think anyone was ready when this whole thing started? Voldemort is evil. He makes the rules as he goes along. He's baiting you. Both you and Dumbledore. Sooner or later, this will have to end."

"I know," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "But how am I going to ask my friends to die for me? It's breaking my heart right now asking you."

"We've been through so much together," Hermione agreed, feeling rather warm that she was so close to him again. "You've taught me so much. But you know that Ron and I are with you to whatever end, right?"

Harry gave her a brilliant smile, tears shining in his deep eyes. "I knew you were my best mate for a reason."

Hermione gave a laugh as he hugged her. She struggled to keep the flutters from her abdomen as she pulled away. "I can't believe we're going to save the world."

"It seems so small, doesn't it?" Harry agreed, chuckling.

"Your sister does this every year it seems."

Harry knew in his heart the time had come to talk to his sister and get everything in the open. He would deal with that after the DA meeting which was starting at any time. He had called them there, hoping to speak with them before the Order met later. "I think she's pretty good at it, when she's not dying."

Hermione moved away from him, retrieving the book. "I still think this will help," she said, changing the topic of their conversation.

"What have you found?"

"There's this guardian spell that uses old magic from the Earth. There's another that's a shield charm used to protect against fire. There are so many things in here… like making your own luck? Professor Snape has us creating the Felix Felicis, but this is a more subtle form of luck without some of the dramatic ingredients—"

Suddenly feeling like he could listen to recite the greatest spells and potions the book had to offer all day, Harry leaned back against the wall, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. It was one of the things that endeared her to him so much, the fact that she had such great passion when it came to books.

x-o-x

As the meeting of Dumbledore's Army was underway, Buffy was curled up on one of the oversized wicker chairs in Hagrid's hut, listening to the half-giant tell his own heroic and less-than-thrilling tale of trying to find a mate for his elder brother Grawp. As much as it compared to her own love life at times, the story was quite frightening. But Hagrid seemed in an enlightened mood today, so she let the man talk. She knew she had the Order meeting later that evening and was looking forward to it, preparing to return to the Order again. When asked why she was so adamant, she wisely said she had her reasons which none seemed to know about. She hadn't yet told anyone about her dreams and, if she was lucky, she would take them to her grave. Hagrid had already said he wasn't going to the meeting tonight, so she wanted to catch up on all of Dumbledore's latest news before she headed out.

She was spared by a sudden knocking on the door to Hagrid's hut. The half-giant stood, nearly spilling the small bucket he was drinking from. "Who's there?"

"It's me, Hagrid," came a feminine voice.

"Rudding right," he muttered, stomping over and pulling the door open. "Oh, Nymphadora, come in, come in. We were just having a drink."

"We?" she asked shortly, glancing around the hut. As usual, Fang was in his corner with his head down, sound asleep with a puddle of drool around its jaw. There were two bats hanging upside down, both sleeping. It was then a figure lifted its head from a chair and looked at her. "Oh, Miss Potter."

"Hi, Tonks," Buffy said cheerfully, swinging her legs over the side of the chair and standing up. "How've you been?"

"Rather well as of late," Tonks said, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. "I had been looking for Wesley, err, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce."

"Haven't seen 'im," Hagraid said, glancing at the blonde. "All right?"

"I'm good, Hagrid," Buffy said, patting the man on his elbow, or what little of it she could reach. "I'll catch you later, right?"

"You are always welcome, Buffy," Hagrid said, cheerfully closing the door behind the women.

"So, I guess I'm going with you to this meeting?" Buffy asked, jogging to catch up with Tonks. The older woman looked somewhat flustered and was panting. Her dark eyes sought out the Slayer and she frowned, realizing the woman wasn't even out of breath and they were trekking up the sharp side of the hill to Hogwarts.

"What?" Tonks gasped, clutching her hip as her breath hitched. "Oh, the Order. Yes, yes, of course, you are welcome to come with me."

"Thanks," Buffy said cheerfully, looking around the late-winter scene and pulling the wool coat she wore tighter to her body. "I haven't seen much of my friends lately. Percy and Emma have returned to work at the Ministry and Oliver's off visiting his family." She gave a nervous chuckle. "I've been thinking about returning to London."

"Why would you do that?" Tonks asked as they began the slow ascent back to the castle again.

"Have you ever felt like you weren't welcome?" At Tonks' dark smile, she shrugged. "It's something like that."

"Why would you feel you were unwelcome?" Tonks asked politely as they reached level ground again.

Buffy sighed as she paused, turning back to stare at the dying sunlight. "It's just this feeling I'm getting, you know? I've been away for some months now and, to me, it seems like just yesterday. I know things have changed but am I that out of the loop? Am I that far gone?"

"I'm really not the one you should be asking," Tonks said uncomfortably, pushing open one of the side doors and stepping into a corridor. Once inside, she shook the snow off of her coat.

"I wish I could explain it," Buffy said, feeling a desperate need to suddenly talk. Why she was suddenly so comfortable with talking to who she felt was a stranger she didn't know. It certainly beat trying to explain this to Faith or Giles or Harry or any number of people she felt a connection to. "I feel like I'm a ghost, drifting from corridor to corridor. Part of me wonders if I'm even alive. My senses are just buzzing but I don't know what to do about them. The end of the world is coming."

"You don't know that," Tonks said, not really believing her words but knowing that she owed the Slayer at least the comfort of them. "And you're a Slayer. Apocalypses are your specialty."

Buffy scoffed and folded her arms, using her foot to push the door shut behind her. "It just doesn't seem real."

"None of it seems real," Tonks whispered, closing her eyes and turning away from the Slayer. "Most of us have spent our lives preparing for this and yet none of us seem ready to face it head-on."

"But you're asking my brother to risk his life—"

"This wasn't our call, Buffy," Tonks said as they walked through the corridors towards the main staircases. They quickly stepped on as it began to move across, forming a bridge with another staircase. They quickly traversed it as the case continued to move to the opposite end. "This is prophecy."

"I don't give a _damn _about prophesies," Buffy muttered bitterly as they continued to walk. "How can you ask a seventeen-year-old boy to give up his life for this?"

"How could your Watcher have asked a sixteen-year-old girl to die because a stupid prophesy foretold it thousands of years before?" At Buffy's sigh, she continued. "Your brother is our last hope. I hope one day you can understand the lengths we have gone to in order to protect him."

Buffy bit her lip, closed her eyes and nodded. "I think I do know."

Tonks shook her head sadly. "I don't think you do."

At the next junction, they ran into a pair of men walking towards them. One dropped the book he was carrying and the other put a hand to his chest in surprise. "Nymphadora," Wesley gasped, bending down to retrieve his book.

"Look what I found," she said cheerfully, canting her head towards the blonde who walked next to her.

"Buffy," Giles said, nodding at his Slayer who respectfully nodded back. "I thought you would be at your brother's meeting."

Buffy cast a look at the groups of students milling around them, completely unfazed by the four adults standing in the juncture. The relief at seeing her Watcher alive and well was evident in her gaze. "I was thinking about it. But I'm more concerned about tonight's meeting."

"That's only a few hours away," Tonks added.

"We were not invited to any meeting," Wesley said in a tone that clearly stated he did not like being left out of things.

Buffy opened her mouth to invite him when Tonks cut in. "I'm sorry that the Watchers haven't been invited," she said hastily. "But it may be a good idea if you would acquiesce and not attend the meeting." Buffy closed her mouth and looked at Tonks in surprise. Wesley frowned slightly and Giles sighed, reaching up for his glasses.

"Tonks, that's rude," Buffy said, sounding surprised at the Auror's actions.

"I had no intention of being rude," Tonks said smoothly. "But considering the circumstances, perhaps it would be best that—"

"So, Giles," Buffy said, cutting off Tonks with her high-pitched, cheerful tone, "wanna crash a party tonight?"

The Watchers exchanged an uncomfortable look as Buffy and Tonks glared one another down, Auror against Slayer. It was obvious the clear victor just by brute force, but in a battle of wills it was Buffy who first turned away. "Buffy, could we talk?"

"Of course, dearest Watcher," Buffy said, giving Tonks one last wounded look before joining her Watcher as they disappeared down the corridor. Wesley waited a moment longer before turning accusatory eyes to the young woman who stood beside him, holding her breath and waiting for this very moment.

"I do not understand what your issues are but I suggest you clear them out before you speak with her again," Wesley said, glaring at Tonks who seemed to draw up to her full height and meet his gaze haughtily. "To incur the wrath of a Slayer, no matter which, is a foolish deed and one that would see you dead!"

"I'm related to one Slayer and the other didn't seem much of a threat," Tonks said, smothering a yawn. "It would be nice to light a fire beneath her again."

Wesley's gaze darkened as he stared off in the direction the Slayer had gone. "Give her time."

Giles and Buffy had just reached the end of the corridor when suddenly reached over and hugged her Watcher. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, awkwardly patting her back as she broke away from him.

"What you did, saving my life and everything." She gave him her pretty smile and shrugged. "Pretty much everything you've put up with since you were dragged to Bulgaria."

Remembering what Quentin had told him, Giles swallowed uneasily and attempted to downplay his role in her rescue. "It was nothing, really."

"It means a lot to me," she said quietly as she moved on, staring at the few snowflakes that drifted down from the massive windows looking outside. "I saw my parents again."

"Buffy?" Giles asked, approaching the Slayer, but her voice was so quiet he wasn't quite sure she was speaking at all.

"Where I was and what happened to me isn't important," she said softly. "But the people in my life who aren't here anymore… they matter to me. And they reminded me that the most important thing in this world is to live in it. There are people here who matter, particularly one person. If I have to give my life for that one person, then I'll do it."

"Buffy, there is a good chance that none of us will make it out," Giles said, feeling that the opening had come at last. "But if there's one thing you've taught me in the past few years, it's that you won't stop fighting until the evil is gone or until you're dead. Not even that silly Mark on your arm will change that. Even though you aren't the same woman who went to Bulgaria, you are still my Slayer and I am extraordinarily proud of you."

Buffy blinked at the sudden tears in her eyes and turned to her Watcher. "Now that means a lot to me," she whispered. "I know I haven't been the same since I woke up, but there's still hope for me, right?"

"There's always hope for you," Giles said, unable to stop a smirk from his face, "and there always will be."

"I'll try not to take that as an insult," Buffy said dryly, slowly pulling her coat from her shoulders. As Giles opened his mouth to talk again, a loud voice echoed down the corridor, drawing Buffy's attention. "Hold that thought," she continued, taking a few steps and shouting back a reply. "I suppose I should motor. I'll see you after the meeting?"

"Yes," he sighed, watching his Slayer take off towards the teacher's lounge where the voices were undoubtedly coming from. He had no desire to sit in another bureaucratic disaster of a meeting listening to good fighters do nothing again. He missed being a part of this, he thought sadly. The apocalypse gave him meaning and it gave his Slayer fire. Maybe the reason she was back after all was to light a fire beneath her again because she sure as hell wasn't ready to fight now.

x-o-x

Willow and Tara had just left the student union on their way back from a late-night film festival. Smothering a yawn, Willow breathed in the cold air and wrapped her coat tighter around her body as Tara fell into step next to her. They'd both been silent for awhile, but after their busy scheduled had kept them apart since before winter break, they'd finally found a chance to get together and do something fun for a change. It was then that she felt a chill at the base of her spine work its way upwards. She reached out and took Tara's arm, causing the older girl to gasp. "What?"

"There's something behind us," Willow whispered, her mind immediately thinking vampire. She reached deep into her coat and found the stake she always kept with her. Though Oxford was hilariously devoid of demonic activity, she knew that one way or another a vampire would wind up on campus at some point. She drew the stake out, ready to pounce when she heard a twig snap to their left. Tara jumped over, knocking the stake from Willow's hand. As it clattered to the ground, Willow spun around, reaching to punch at the vampire behind them. Her scream caught in her throat as she recognized the familiar form of Angel behind her. From their left, Spike meandered out, giving Tara a good once-over.

"Angel?" she asked softly.

He glanced at Tara; the witch glared right back at him. She wasn't backing down from this one. The past few months spent learning about both worlds she was now accustomed to had taught her that much. "We need to talk," he finally said, gesturing to the patch of woods behind them.

"What is it? Is it Xander?"

"No, pet, but it wouldn't be such a bad notion to call him on this, too."

This took Willow's attention as she looked from Spike to Angel. "What's going on?"

"It's Faith."

x-o-x

Harry found himself strangely moved as he glanced over the Room of Requirement, filled with his friends and those he never took the time to get to know. He felt slightly guilty at that, but strangely comforted by their unfamiliar faces nonetheless. It meant that more than just his friends were willing to stand with him in this battle. They didn't know what he was going to ask from them. He didn't even know how to ask it of them. All he knew was that the time had come to try.

"Thanks for coming." Their only response was a half-dozen tense smiles. His eyes searched the room. Faith wasn't there, but Juliet had assured him (through Ron) that Faith wasn't present because she was serving extra classes for skiving off so many when Buffy had first returned. He glanced curiously between Ron and Juliet, looking for something, but found that there really wasn't anything there except for petty bickering about their Houses. His eyes flitted over to Ginny, who gave him an encouraging nod. Hermione wore a pensive expression, though she seemed to know what he was going to say. His roommates watched him with a somber expression. His support came from Ron; the intense look never left his eyes, but there was a hint of anxiety there as well.

"When we first started the DA, it was meant as a way for you to learn to defend yourselves in order to pass the O.W.L. for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry began. "Well, most of us have passed our O.W.L.'s and don't need the study anymore. Some of us will need to pass the Defense N.E.W.T. in order to continue on to Auror training, but what point is there if the world will just blow in our faces? As we continue on day to day, Voldemort is getting stronger." It was a mark of the integrity of the DA that not one of them winced when he said the name. "Each day he takes a piece of our soul and reminds us that until he is dead the world isn't safe. In a few months, several of us will leave this castle, perhaps forever. What sort of world are we walking into? It isn't safe. It isn't secure. It sure as hell isn't ready for us. We deserve to have a future in a world that's safe from Voldemort's power. Whether or not he can truly ever die is nothing that you will ever need to worry about. But what you do need to worry about is what I'm going to say next.

"The future of the magical world is at risk from Voldemort's evil. He has the power to corrupt and destroy everything that our parents and our parents' parents fought for and died for. Are we really to let that happen? The world is ready to fall to him. One more disaster will turn even the most conservative heart to his power because he promises safety. He promises. His promises are poison! He promised to kill me! He has failed. Every single time that Wizard comes against me, he failed. One thing that a dark Wizard hates more than anything is to fail. I promise you that those who have died will not have died in vain. I promise you that this world will be safe for your families and for your children and for your futures. But this is not a battle I can win alone. I need your help."

"We're with you, Harry," Ginny said softly, her eyes shining with pride.

Ron glanced at his sister with a little smile and grinned. "Right on."

"We won't let you down," Neville said, attempting a smile. There were other murmurs of consent as dozens of eyes turned back to their leader.

"You joined this club because you believed I had something to teach you," Harry continued, feeling emboldened by the support of his classmates, his peers, his friends. "In reality, I've taught you everything you need to know now. Everything you've learned at this school has brought us to this point. You are my friends, my family. Now this is the part where you make a choice. We know that Voldemort will come. I am still a threat to him, as is Dumbledore. As long as we remain alive, there is hope for the future. As long as we are both at Hogwarts, it is a target. But what he won't count on is us. It is your choice whether or not to stand with me, but I implore you to choose wisely. This won't be an easy task. If you are of the faintest heart, the door is there." He gestured towards the door, which seemed to appear out of thin air.

He waited a few moments, but no one moved. Not even Juliet, though she stared longingly at the door for a moment before turning defiant eyes back to him.

"We meant what we said, mate," Ron said. "We're with you."

"I want you to know that this decision today alone defines you as heroes. There is a chance that you may die. We all might. It's the gift we get for being human, for being mortal. But in the end, we will be left standing because there is no other alternative. If we all die, the world will fall to darkness. Our futures will no longer exist. You've made your choice now. And this is mine: I'm done waiting. It's time to fight. Whatever dark creatures he has for us, we're prepared to face them. We just became an army." He glanced around the room at faces full of confidence and determination. Feeling a hint of pride at a group originally created for this same reason, he added, "Any questions?"

x-o-x

Buffy navigated the crowded hallways at Grimmauld Place, finding her backside smashed against a wall as she slid along it, ducking her neck out of the way to avoid any of the grumbling portraits. She saw that there was a group of people moving upstairs and heard a voice calling her name from the other end of the hallway. It took her a moment to realize it was Emma. The taller girl fought her way through the crowd until she reached Buffy's side, panting. "Oh, it's been absolutely insane!" she moaned, flinging her arms around her friend. Buffy giggled and held her back before taking her by the hand and dragging her upstairs. Once they reached the sitting room, Buffy again saw how different it was as she took a seat in a cushy armchair. Emma propped herself on the chair, stretching.

"How was work?"

"Excellent," Emma scoffed. "I spent most of my day tagging missing files again."

"Sounds sweet," Buffy commented, drawing her legs beneath her and turning so she could see Emma. "I once again spent my day wandering the castle."

"You could come back to work you know," Emma suggested slowly. "I mean, you still have a job."

"Do I?" Buffy asked, surprised. "I thought that considering my entire team was dead, I'd be held for questioning."

"But you were unconscious so none of that was your fault," Emma pointed out.

"Knowing the Ministry, they'd make anything up," Buffy shrugged, her eyes going to Tonks, who had just entered. She wasn't alone. A tall, dark-skinned man in long purple robes was behind her. His eyes widened when he saw Buffy sitting in the chair and he quickly drew Tonks aside to speak with her. Buffy's attention, however, was claimed by the next person who walked in. "Molly!"

"Buffy!"

Jumping up from her chair, Buffy embraced Molly Weasley, feeling somewhat lighthearted and much happier than she was moments before. Molly gave her a motherly hug and smiled at the younger woman. "Are you all right?"

"I'm peachy," Buffy replied cheekily, dropping back into her seat. Moments later, Lupin arrived. She gave him a bright smile and a happy wave. His eyes were wary as he nodded at her before turning away. Buffy was puzzled; he had barely been able to meet her gaze and it looked like it was torturing him to do so. Her eyes then switched to Sirius. He didn't meet her gaze at all. He simply mumbled a greeting before joining Remus at the wall. Confused now, Buffy curled back up in her seat, Emma's comforting hand on her shoulder.

She was surprised to see some of her old Hogwarts friends present. Katie Bell arrived with a young man she named Roger Davies that Buffy didn't know. Percy came a few moments before the meeting began, slipping in with his elder brother Charlie. At last, Professor McGonagall stood up. She was the only faculty member from Hogwarts present and it was on good authority she was there to speak for Dumbledore, who was being keeping with matters at Hogwarts.

"Good evening," she said gravely, glancing at the faces surrounding her. It hadn't been for months that the entire Order had been gathered and, once again, a decision needed to be made.

As McGonagall spoke, Remus watched through heavy eyes as Buffy hung onto her every word. Each count of horror against the magical world was like a blade twisting into his gut. He'd rather be with the werewolves under Voldemort than to face this agony of knowing that Buffy was again an unwilling pawn in a game of espionage. "Perhaps we should say something to her," he said quietly to Sirius, who just blinked up at him.

"And what do we say?" Sirius whispered back humorlessly. "Your sister Slayer's been playing you to spy for her?"

"You and I know very well that Faith is considerably high on Buffy's list of people to listen to," Remus hissed back. "She may not listen to us."

Sirius searched the room until his eyes landed on a certain Weasley. "She'll listen to him."

Remus's eyes followed Sirius's until they landed on Percy. His eyes narrowed as he studied the young man sitting between his elder brother and his mother. "We could ask him."

"We should warn her, though, somehow," Sirius admitted. "She needs to know Faith is—"

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but did you have anything to say?"

Both Sirius and Remus looked up guiltily, reminiscent of the days when she had yelled at them for talking in her classes. "No, ma'am," they both replied as they exchanged a wicked grin. This was just too ironic – to be critiqued for talking in his own house in front of his own teacher. Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at that.

Buffy found her attention ebbing away. Her thoughts were on Harry, whom she had seen as she had dashed off to her meeting here. He had been on his way back from the DA meeting, looking thoroughly victorious about something. She had told him to come to her room later when she got back and they would have their long overdue talk.

Finally the meeting came to an end. She had been privileged to an hour or more to horror stories of what Voldemort had done. Assignments were tasked to determine his movements, from Remus Lupin wandering back into the werewolf den to the promise of Severus Snape tracking the movements of Death Eaters. For a second, it struck Buffy odd on how her former Potions professor hadn't been to the meeting. Emma was told to keep an eye on the Wizengamot (which apparently she had been assigned to do before) and others were given tasks as well. Buffy felt left out when McGonagall told her that she had enough on her plate to be forced to deal with more. She was the first one out the door to the meeting. She was really trying to figure out why she was there in the first place. Sirius was something of a surrogate brother to her, but if he couldn't even look her in the eye, he wasn't worth her time.

Imagine to her utter surprise the two figures waiting for her downstairs in the parlor.

"Teeny tiny!!"

Buffy let out a mortified gasp as a pair of arms came around her waist from behind and lifted her into the air. "Fred? George?"

"That'd be us!" Fred said, lowering the Slayer down and spinning her around to give her a proper greeting. "You're back!"

Buffy felt considerably lighter as Fred's arms tightened around her. "It's good to see you guys, too," she said with a watery laugh as Fred pulled back, only to be replaced with George. He actually had the gall to lift her off her feet as he held her. She was smiling at both when she saw their freckled, grinning faces beaming back at her. "You have no idea!"

"We've missed you," Fred said, giving Buffy's arm a halfhearted punch. "It's like half of our soul died or something."

"Maybe half of yours," George grumbled, giving Fred a dark look as he patted Buffy's head. "But our biggest git of a brother returned you to us."

"Not unspoiled, though," Fred said, giving Buffy a sharp look-over. "You're awfully peaky."

"I've got a good metabolism," Buffy protested, crossing her arms.

"Definitely have that attitude," George sighed.

"We might have to lobotomize you," Fred grinned.

"You want my brain?" Buffy asked with a sharp laugh. "Take it. Please. It's yours."

"She's our Teeny Tiny," Fred said happily to George as they both took turns hugging her again. From the upstairs landing, Sirius and Remus exchanged a dark look.

"We cannot tell her now," Remus said calmly, watching as the three began their light, playful banter again.

"How thick were we to feel that she would leave our world with friends like these?" Sirius asked, gesturing down below. They didn't notice Percy and Emma talking quietly as they walked past them. Percy told Buffy he'd see her back at the school as he had to grab his belongings before heading back to London. Buffy told him that she'd catch up before turning back to the Weasley twins.

"They certainly had been down of late," Molly commented, seeing the darkly pensive look on Remus and Sirius's faces. "Hopefully this will cheer them up a bit."

"I think we all need a bit of that," Remus agreed as he looked around the dimly-lit corridor. "I think a good night of sleep would suffice me tonight before I head out again tomorrow." He touched Sirius's arm. "Good night, mate."

"'Night," Sirius replied, turning back to the melee downstairs. His heart felt much lighter at watching their banter. He just knew Faith's plan to rip Buffy away would fail if the Weasleys had anything to say about it. It seemed like they all had a small, yet significant, piece invested in the Slayer's life.

x-o-x

Faith had been sitting in the library for the past few hours, twirling a quill in her hands as she stared hopelessly at a book. And not just any book; this book was supposed to answer all of her questions. But as much as she wanted to learn why Muggles appreciated things like answering a telephone or reading a newspaper without magic, she just couldn't bring herself to care. The dark thoughts had been whispering in her head all day but she hadn't yet brought them to be.

She felt her senses tingle and knew that there were vampires around. They were likely her vampires, there to back her up when she made her move. For some reason, she could feel them differently than other vampires. Maybe it was because she was friends with them, she didn't know. But she felt them. They were inside the castle. That thought alone made her smile.

Giving up the homework for a bust, she shoved the book back on the shelf and grabbed her bag, flouncing out of the library. Madam Pince's cold eyes followed her out. She pulled her bag over her shoulder, wondering if she could talk Malfoy into going out with her tonight. He'd been doing that for the past few nights, just a short little patrol. But as he was her only family at the school, she figured that he should have the chance to get to know his cousin better.

But her footsteps were halted by a familiar voice speaking from the Entrance Hall. Her eyes followed the shadows as she heard Percy bragging about the Order and his special assignment.

A cold fury like none other crept inside of her. The bag fell dully from her shoulders. She waited a moment longer until he turned the corner and saw Faith standing there in the middle of the hallway. Next to him was Emma Vance, looking haughty and smug. Percy suddenly looked nervous, his mouth closing and his shoulders slumping.

"What's the problem?" she asked sweetly, taking a step forward into the light to better show off the stunning silver and green of her Slytherin uniform. "Afraid to talk to little ol' me?"

x-o-x

"I'm glad you came to talk to me," Wesley said, pressing a hand to his aching head and willing his migraine to dissipate. "But I don't know what we can do about Faith or Buffy at this point. We have no right to infringe on their lives."

"We have to do something," Willow said in a low voice, wishing that they'd been able to find Giles before this little meeting. "I mean, she's out for blood."

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked.

"Wes, did you tell her that the Ministry was the one that poisoned her and left her for dead in Bulgaria?" Angel asked outright.

Wesley shook his head. He didn't remember any conversations with Faith on that subject. "Of course not."

"She overheard you speaking to Giles," Willow said heavily. "She formed the conclusion on her own."

"What?"

"She's not an idiot, mate," Spike said, examining a heavy golden statue on Wesley's nightstand.

"It wasn't that. It was about the Ministry part. How does Faith know?"

"She doesn't." The voice was from a single figure hovering in Wesley's doorway. Both vampires immediately stepped forward, baring their fangs. The newcomer didn't even blink as she turned a tired gaze to Wesley. "You want the truth about what happened that night?"

"What…?" Willow asked, rising to join Wesley. Tara was still seated in the only chair in the room, looking thoughtful.

"Do you know what happened to Buffy in Bulgaria?" Wesley asked, floored.

To his surprise, Tonks nodded. "There was an order for the Slayer to be taken out no matter the cost."

Wesley took a step back, allowing the vampires to come forward and make their usual threats. Willow glanced at the Watcher and saw the emotions cross his face before turning back to Tonks. "You were the one who tried to kill her?"

"We never meant to kill her," Tonks said, glancing down at her feet. "The orders were to take her out. And the Wizards who smuggled the poison down were killed in the attack on the Ministry."

"You're an idiot," Tara said softly, drawing Tonks' attention. "You're a fool and an idiot for thinking that you could control her destiny."

"Tara?" Willow breathed, unable to take the anger on her friend's pretty face.

"She's right," Tonks said desperately. "But you have no idea how deep the resentment is for this decision. If there was any way to undo it, it simply can't be undone."

"You agree with this… arrangement?" Angel growled, taking another step closer.

"I had nothing to do with this," Tonks replied hotly. "It was told to me. And she must never know."

"If you think we're going to let this stupid government play tricks on my best friend, you are sorely mistaken," Willow replied coldly, standing toe-to-toe with the older woman. "We were strong way before we ever knew of you. Don't think that just because you've been honest with us does that mean we like you." Her eyes turned to Wesley, who was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. "Faith knows the truth. And when she finds someone else who knows, God help them."

x-o-x

Percy felt his heart beating painfully in his chest as Faith moved closer. She was like an animal on the prowl. Her eyes never left his face, nor did the hungry, wolfish look disappear. Her eyes glittered in the soft light around them, but there was no love in her eyes. There was nothing at all.

"I asked you a question, Peter," she sneered, pausing to stare at him. "You've got nothing to be afraid of unless you want to own up to anything."

_Oh, Merlin's beard, she knows!_ Emma thought in panic. She turned to Percy to relay this, but the Wizard wouldn't even look at her. The color was slowly draining from his face. "I have nothing to say to you," he said in a carefully controlled voice.

"I bet you don't." Faith turned to Emma. "And what about you, darling? Have you anything to tell little ol' Faith?"

"Nothing," Emma whispered. "Nothing at all."

"Well, then, let me tell you a little story," Faith replied smoothly. "I have this friend, see? And we, like, have this sisterhood thing going on because we both have the same destiny. Lots of killing with an expiration date that's in the not-quite-distant future? Yeah. So we do our job better than anyone. We find out we've got family on this miserable lump of land. And then we find out that the government full of supposed good guys was the ones that tried to have my sister killed. That doesn't bode well for those that won't own up to what they know."

Percy stared at her in disbelief, shaking his head. "I have nothing to say to you," he spat out.

"Oh, really?" Faith asked casually, pushing herself off from the wall. "Because I made myself a little promise. I said that when I found out who had done this treachery, I'd kill them." There was a beat as Percy blinked. "I guess that means that I get to play now."

"Don't think about it," Emma said, holding out her wand, aiming it at the younger Slayer.

"Ooh, look at who's wearing big sister's clothes now," Faith squealed in delight, hardly flinching at the sight of the wand. "You want to kill me? Go for it. I doubt you'd live till morning. If they don't kill you, B will."

Emma sighed and lowered her wand.

"What do you want?" Percy asked Faith.

"What do I want? That's such a funny question. See, I'm a kind of girl who loves the violence. So, buckle up, birdies because violence is anticipated." With a quiet grin, she rushed them. Emma gasped as she was pushed away, colliding with the wall. The wand slipped from her hand and rolled away. She turned her head to see Percy fly through the air in a graceful arc before landing on the cold marble. Faith was on him in seconds. Emma opened her mouth to scream for help but she found she couldn't. She watched as Faith straddled Percy, her hands clenching his coat as she slammed his head into the floor with such force she knew there would be marks on both come morning. A moment later, she punched him, a right hook that sent his head snapping the opposite way with a sickening crack. Emma found her voice again and started screaming.

"Help! Attack! Help!"

She was afraid for her life now. Her wand was only ten feet away but at the rate Faith was going, she knew Percy didn't have much time left. She pushed off from the wall, diving for her wand. Her fingers wrapped around it and she cried out "Stupefy!"

Faith groaned as the spell hit somewhere above her right head, striking the wall. With a hiss she turned around, pushing Percy's barely conscious body to the ground. Emma was on her feet as Faith reached her, ready to defend herself. Instead, Percy moaned as he pushed himself to all-fours and got to his feet painfully. "Faith!"

The Slayer turned, eyeing the Wizard with only the slightest hint of respect. "You got balls, Weasley. That much I'll give you."

"No," Emma wept, afraid for what was to come.

As Percy attempted to fight back, it was clear that when it came to brutal force, Faith was a clear victor. Emma could only watch as Percy's body snapped back and forth from the force of the blows. Finally, Faith gave one to the upper chin that sent Percy to the ground. And then she started kicking him, his body flipping around, leaving deep red stains on the floor from the blood. Emma used the distraction to call for help using her wand.

After Percy was down, Faith turned back to Emma, who trembled at seeing a Slayer's true anger. "Is it true?" Faith asked quietly.

"Is what true?"

"Do you really think me for an idiot?" Faith asked coldly. "You knew about the attack?"

Oh, Percy, why didn't you say anything? This could have been avoided!

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Emma snapped, coming forward with her own fists out. Percy hadn't moved from his spot in over a minute and it was beginning to terrify her.

A few hundred feet away, Buffy walked into Hogwarts with Professor McGonagall. Both women were talking about the recent snow and the possibility for ice that night. It was then that both women were distracted by the voices filtering in from their right. They could also see shadows on the stairs. "Oh, no," Buffy whispered, moving to her right. Professor McGonagall used her wand to send a message to Dumbledore before following the elder Slayer.

"Have you sunk that low, Faith, that you beat on those of us that are smaller than you?" Emma asked. She was buying time for help to arrive and she knew it. She wasn't prepared for the sudden slap across her cheek that sent her reeling. She slammed into a table, a lamp falling harmlessly to the floor. She touched her bruised cheek and lifted wounded eyes to Faith. The dark Slayer wore a soft smile which broadened when a sudden figure rounded the corner and stopped suddenly.

"Faith?" Buffy asked weakly, glancing at the blood staining the floors. Percy's form was prone on the floor and Emma was a few feet to her left huddled over a table, a hand on her cheek. "What the hell is going on?"

"Why don't you ask your so-called friends?" Faith asked, stepping aside to give Buffy access to Percy. Giving her sister Slayer a startled look, she shot forward towards Percy. "Of course, when I say what I have to say, you won't touch him again. If ever." Percy moaned and moved on the floor, reaching for his broken, bloodied glasses. "You, a great heroine of darkness, were poisoned. I know that's the reason you hold back, why you're a lost little lamb afraid of becoming something more than what you are. You're also my sister and sisters tell the truth." Her eyes went to Emma. "Was the Ministry of Magic responsible for sending Buffy to Bulgaria for the purpose of poisoning her?"

Percy winced at the cold tone in Faith's voice but couldn't do anything more than raise his head. "Yes," he murmured.

Buffy blinked once, a sudden look of understanding crossing her face. "I should have known."

"And now you do."

There were more footsteps as Professor McGonagall arrived. She clutched at her chest before turning to a haughty Faith. "Miss Black, explain yourself!"

"I don't have to. He just did it for me," Faith said, waving a lazy hand at Percy. There were more footsteps as Buffy was joined by the pair of vampires and the pair of Wiccas. Her eyes crinkled as she greeted the newcomers.

"I don't know why I ever came back here."

"Buffy, it isn't too late to leave," Angel said quietly, moving into the room. His eyes showed little compassion for Percy or Emma. Emma slowly moved towards Percy to check on him.

"The Ministry of Magic in which you have placed your trust has screwed you over and over again," Faith announced to the room at large. There were other shadows approaching, but she wanted this to be heard, even if it got her expelled. "The time has come, my sister, to choose between your friends or the ones that betrayed you."

Buffy turned uncertainly to Faith. "I don't… I don't understand."

"I'll make it simple," Faith replied, crossing her arms as she stared back at Percy. "This man befriended you and yet he admits that the Ministry poisoned you. B, you knew his position. You knew he had power. If he had that power, he would've known about your exile. You can't trust them to make the same decision for Harry, even after he was tortured by that Umbridge."

"She's right," Spike said, lingering in the shadows. "You can't trust any of them."

"Buffy, please," Emma whispered, appealing to the Slayer's humanity. "He needs help."

"Is that what they teach at this school?" Faith asked softly. "It seems to me that they teach students how to become enemies. Look at my house. We're all a group of students studying Dark Arts because we want others to suffer. Is this the future you want?"

Buffy couldn't believe what was happening. Part of her always knew that the Ministry would take measures to make sure that she was out of Harry's life, but she never knew that they would spring that poison on her. After what she had gone through in her dreams, she didn't want to be betrayed again, toyed with by one side or another. Even if Percy hadn't known, he was playing her. Faith was playing her. They were all playing her. It was too much for her to handle.

"I can't do this," she whispered, backing away from the scene. A trembling hand lifted to her mouth as the bile shot up her throat. Seeing her best friend at the mercy of her sister was not something that she wanted to happen, but it was inevitable. Both had their loyalties and it seemed like their common goal had come to an end. After what she had gone through in her alternate reality, she didn't want this again. "I'm sorry, Faith."

Faith could only watch as her sister Slayer turned around and fled through the small gap of people, the sound of her footsteps melting away. Her eyes turned to the Headmaster, who observed the scene solemnly. "Filius," he said, addressing Professor Flitwick who had also come down, looking tiny as he stepped around the people jammed in the corridor. "If you could help Mr. Weasley to the infirmary? Ms. Vance, if you would accompany him…" He suddenly appeared tired as he turned to the audience. Two vampires, two women whose magic came from the Earth and a dark Slayer. All five were staring at him with varying degrees of anger. "If you wish to speak of betrayal, speak of yourselves first."

"I was not about to let them break her," Faith said calmly, her anger spent. "The Ministry betrayed her and he knew it." Her finger pointed to the floating stretcher now bearing Percy's body. "He deserved everything he got for being too cowardly to tell her the truth."

"I find it strange that we have come to the point where we fight one another instead of our enemies," Professor Dumbledore said softly. He turned to the others. "If you could please leave, I wish to speak with Ms. Black myself." He waited until their footsteps had faded before turning to Faith. "Why did you not come to me?"

"I should think the answer is obvious," Faith replied. "I don't trust you. I know Sirius didn't because of what you made him go through." She watched as the older man closed his eyes and bowed his head. "You and your followers speak of action and yet you stand by as hundreds of innocents die."

"The time for action has come, Faith, but it will not be while we stand and accuse each other of treachery." His voice became deep. "You are not unintelligent. You know the true reason why Buffy would have been poisoned and held under. That was not a call of mine. In case you have forgotten, the Ministry has made many an enemy. I am not your enemy."

"I don't think you really get it," Faith said, crossing her arms. "My loyalties aren't to you or any other moron. They belong to Harry."

Dumbledore suddenly gave her a small, benevolent smile. "Perhaps that is all that matters," he said quietly. "But it is enough for now. Come… we must have a long discussion about you attacking Ministry officials within my walls."

"You're expelling me, aren't you?" Faith asked.

"I have no reason to expel you unless you wish to attack me personally," Dumbledore replied. "However, if the Ministry wishes to press charges for harassing one of their officers, I don't have any say in that."

"I'll just set Buffy loose on them," Faith said with a small, wicked smile. "That ought to shake her up."

The Headmaster cast a long look down the corridor, his gaze suddenly strained. "We need to give her time to adjust to the truth. Perhaps it was all she needed to return to her old ways. I, for one, would not wish to be on the receiving end of her anger."

x-o-x

The wind whipped her hair around her face, but she didn't make any move to brush it back. The school that had seemed like such a safe haven was now a jail cell with four walls closing her in. She struggled to contain her tears. She knew that she should be worried about Percy, but the fact that he may have known about her attack and hadn't said a word to her hurt. She couldn't deny it. Her friends standing behind Faith as she brought Percy down also hurt. Both sides were playing her. Both sides wanted a piece of her.

But, as she continued on her way, walking into nothingness, she knew she had nothing left to give them; all of her anger was already reserved for another.

x-o-o-x

Next chapter: Faith gets romantic; Buffy rants; Wesley yells; it's about the mushiest chapter I think I've ever written.


	19. Memento Mori

**Author's Note**: After the harshness of the previous chapter, I decided I wanted to throw in some good-quality mush because from this point on, things go downhill. For those of you desiring fluff, this should prove fluffy enough.

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 19  
Memento Mori**

x-o-o-x

"Only do what your heart tells you."

- Princess Diana

x-o-o-x

Harry sat on his sister's bed, his feet dangling off the end, wishing he had brought a watch with him. Buffy had told him she'd meet him after the Order meeting. They both knew they needed to talk, but she hadn't come back yet. That was more than an hour ago, he'd wager. He ran a hand down his face, attempting to wake up. Of course he'd gotten there and had fallen asleep. He hadn't been sleeping the best of late and knew that part of that was because he was worried. There was too much to worry about. How could he keep it all straight?

He was just drifting off into a light doze when he heard frantic pounding on the other side of the portrait hole. Harry groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It probably wasn't Buffy unless she had forgotten her password, which did happen on occasion. But likely it was someone else, one of her friends there to gossip or do whatever it was that Buffy's friends did with her.

He was forced not to snicker at his own mindset as he heavily moved to the door. If Buffy was there and had forgotten her password, he would at least be able to do that for her.

But the person on the other side of the portrait wasn't Buffy.

It was Faith.

But this wasn't Faith as he knew her. His image of Faith didn't shake and stare at him as though he was a ghost. She certainly didn't try and avoid eye contact while shaking her head and backing away. He had never seen her like this, even when her life was falling apart.

"Faith?" he asked gently.

"Is B here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands were shaking and she had great difficulty even looking at him. This was leading him to believe that she had done something wrong.

"She hasn't come back yet," Harry murmured as Faith paced the hallway outside. The portrait was standing with her back to them, grumbling about the rudeness of those who had borrowed her to protect the Slayer's quarters. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I screwed up," she said, her head tilting to the side as a look of anguish crossed her face. "I…"

"Come on," Harry said, taking her arm and pulling her into Buffy's room. The portrait swung shut behind them. He had a feeling that what Faith was about to say was not for the ears of the masses and likely there would be eavesdroppers. "Now, tell me what happened."

She kept her gaze at her feet, shaking her head. "I can't."

"Is it about Buffy?" he asked, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice. He knew he shouldn't have to worry about his sister as she could take care of herself, but she was off her game lately. At Faith's reluctant nod, he felt a stab of anger. "What aren't you telling me?"

"You don't know?"

He stared at her blankly. "I don't know anything," he said softly. His hand reached out to touch her face, but her hand shot out and knocked his arm away. "Faith, please, tell me what's bothering you so much."

"I screwed up, okay?" she snapped angrily, running a hand through her hair. "It wasn't supposed to go down like that. It… she shouldn't have found out… not that way."

"You're not making any sense," Harry replied, watching as her nervous pacing continued.

"None of it makes any sense!" Faith cried out, rounding on him. "None of it does! When she came back, it was supposed to be better. I could do what I wanted. I didn't have to be here. I never wanted this life! I watched what they did to her and it made me sick! But what those sick freaks did to her…" Her voice became choked and she pressed a hand to her mouth, looking ashamed.

Harry moved over to her, reaching out to touch her. This time, she didn't push him away.

"I wanted her to know the truth about her perfect life here. They would destroy her to save you." Earnest eyes met his. "I didn't want that for her. Don't you see that she deserves better than that? She was a hero long before she knew you existed. They are slowly draining her of the life she thought she knew. I don't care what side wants her for whatever reason but I'll be damned if they get another chance."

In this moment, Harry saw how deeply the Slayers were connected. There were times when Buffy and Faith seemed sisters of the same core and there were times when they were as unique as the houses they lived in. "Faith…" he whispered, pulling her closer.

"You don't understand," she murmured, staring up at him. "All this time, I thought I could stay away to protect you because you are the most important person in the world. How could they make you suffer so much? How can they keep tearing your family away from you?"

"Tonight, Faith," he said, trying to keep things as simple as they could be. "What happened tonight?"

"I wanted Buffy to know the truth about her precious friends that betrayed her. They will do everything in their power to keep you safe, even if it means the life of your sister."

Harry shook his head to clear it. He should have seen it coming. The government had screwed him before and now it was after his sister. "Where is she?"

"She ran," Faith's voice broke. "I forced her to make a choice between us and them."

"What about me?"

Faith's heart shattered at the sound of the deep sadness in his voice. Her eyes met his and blurred as he took a step back. "Harry…"

"Don't I have a right to family?" he asked, his voice rising. "Don't I ever have a say? All of my life, people have been dictating a path for me that I wish I could just forget about! I keep losing the people I care about, the people I love! Do you think I enjoy watching them suffer?"

"Of course not—"

"Do you really think I am going to stand by and let them take and take and take when my life is on the line?"

Faith's head tipped down as she felt something wet streak down one of her pale cheeks. "I was stupid to think you would."

"This war has claimed my parents. I won't let it take anyone else I love. Not again."

Faith shook her head. "You shouldn't have to."

His fingers came forward and brushed her chin, nudging it upwards. Her eyes slowly lifted and locked onto his. "Not even you."

Faith felt her heart tense and hammer in her chest, the blood rushing into her ears. She blinked uncertainly at him. "Harry…"

"I don't give a damn what sense of foolish pride you think you have," he said, his voice gaining strength.

"How could I even want to be near you if I thought for one second I was capable of killing you?" she asked.

"Because, in case you haven't noticed, the end of the world is coming," Harry replied, drawing her closer. Her hands clenched into fists and rested against his chest, preparing for a battle to push herself away if necessary. "Are you going to hide forever?"

"I don't want to," she muttered. How could she ever think to stay away from him? The way her body was pressed to his was sending sparks to all of the dangerously wrong places. She felt the old longing shatter her perfect control as he pulled her even closer. His breath was warm on her face, his eyes shining behind his spectacles. He was so close now… so treacherously close…

"I am going to find you one day," he replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper as his forehead rested against hers. "Even if I have to drag you from the Hellmouths of this planet to do it, I am going to find you. When this war is over—"

"Who said the war had to be over?" She was being foolish, she knew. But she was hurting. And when she hurt, she tended to think with something other than her brain and her hormones weren't exactly cooperating either. Why did she keep pulling herself away? Harry was the most important person in this fight and he wanted her. "I was thinking more of tonight."

Before he could open his mouth to answer her, her hands unclenched and swept to his neck, drawing his face down to hers. Her lips met his hard. She used his shoulders as leverage to pull herself even closer as his hands wrapped around her back, arching her into him. Everything was so blissfully clear when she felt like this. It was far better than worrying about the consequences when she came to her senses. But if this could last forever, she wouldn't complain. But it was his hands on her arms that slowed it down until she drew back, gasping. His eyes glinted in the darkness as they stood there, staring at one another.

_If we die tomorrow_, Faith thought to herself, _how would I want to spend my last night on this planet?_

His reasoning sounded a whole lot like hers, even as he reached to push her hair back from her face, those eyes never leaving hers. That was all she needed to convince herself that this was what she wanted.

His hands glided over her arms and around her neck to her face to hold her there. His tongue swept the seal of her lips and she allowed him entrance. But the craving kicked in and she wanted more, adding fire as she nipped his lower lip and tugged, her fingers skillfully prying the robes from his body. Her own robes pooled at her feet and she felt the scorch of his hands on her back as her hands pushed the material from his shoulders as his robes joined hers. Before he could take on her jumper, she pulled back long enough to push him backwards. He stumbled and caught his heel on the edge, sending him spilling onto the bed. She was on him in a fraction of a second, her dark hair cascading over her face and into his as her hand wandered down his abdomen and below. A moment later, he flinched and his eyes opened, staring brightly at her. With a wicked smile, she drew her tongue along his lips as his trembling hand touched hers.

It had never really occurred to her that this saintly young man beneath her had never experienced what she as a Slayer had come to see as something she could take for granted. There was another moment of silence before his hand moved hers. Her eyes widened and his head came up, his lips taking hers. She moaned into his mouth as the hindering fabric fell away.

x-o-x

Ice lashed out at the windows, the fading sound of thunder a distant music to her ears. Buffy lay on her side, her fingers idly twirling her hair as she stared at the window, the streaks of pink and white. Despite the warmth of her body with the fire at her back and a fading fire within, she felt cold and numb.

A hand touched her back. She flinched at the contact before she sat up, holding the covers to her body as she began searching for her clothes scattered among the garments on the floor.

"What is it?" a sleepy voice asked as the hand fell away. "Aren't you going to sleep?"

"No."

His blue eyes narrowed and he sighed, pressing the palms of his hands to his forehead. He had been having a quiet evening when she had pounded on the door to the room he had taken at the Hogs Head Inn. She was standing on the other side, drenched, trembling and sobbing as though her heart had fallen and was bleeding at her feet. Of course Oliver had taken her in. After a few moments of just holding her, it had come to something that was considered a bit more intimate. But as he had drifted off afterwards, he felt that she was pulling away.

"What's wrong?" he finally queried, propping himself on his elbows as she hopped across the darkened room in front of him, struggling to get back into her damp pants.

"Nothing."

"This isn't nothing," he said, gesturing to her as she yanked on her sweater, offering him a striking view of her backside. "Buffy, please, come back. You can head back to the school in the morning."

"I'm not going back," she mumbled.

He sighed again and pushed the blankets aside, searching for his robe amongst his things.

"What are you doing?" she asked, yanking on one of her boots.

"I'm getting up with you."

"No, you're not."

This should have been something that she cherished as much as he did. After all, they had been separated for months. Her Watcher had pretty much limited their intimacy in Germany. And now she seemed to be pulling herself away. After what they had gone through the year before, he felt that they had earned tonight. Instead, he was watching her rush it along.

"Would you stop for just a moment?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulders. As he did, he gave her a quite striking view of what she had just seen. Her eyebrow lifted as she gazed at him. "Buffy, you're acting insane."

Her eyes had softened at his touch but had hardened at his words. "You sure know how to talk a girl to your bed, don't you?" she snapped, bending down to grab her other boot.

His eyes rolled as he pulled a robe on. "I'm just trying to understand where all of this anger is coming from."

"Sorry if I wasn't all gentle Gerry on you," she replied, her voice sounding dead as she pulled on her other boot and bent down to tie it.

"Buffy…"

"WHAT?" she yelled, her dark gaze snapping back at him. "What do you want to tell me? What do you want from me?"

Oliver was taken aback by her outrage as she stormed at him, her index finger poking painfully into his chest.

"What do you know?" she challenged, those hazel eyes burning into his.

"Buffy, this isn't you," Oliver said, watching as his girlfriend stalked his inn room in agitation. "You are not one to be playing games with me."

Her body tensed and she slowly turned to him. "Playing games… is that what you think this is?"

"Is that all I am to you?" he asked in a hurt voice. "Just someone to play around with?"

"How can you ask me that?" she snarled, charging him again, her hands glancing off his chest, sending him stumbling backwards into the wall. "First Faith and Percy and the Order and now you?"

"Buffy…"

"No!" she shrieked, turning away as her hands went to her hair. A moment later, her arms fell aside. "I am not going to let anyone plays these games with me. They want me to pick a side, fine. I am not going to hurt my friends or my family because they can't function together anymore!"

Oliver gaped at her. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but was afraid to ask as they would likely get into another petty argument and that was the last thing he wanted.

"In case you haven't noticed, everything is falling apart," she ranted, jerking her coat over her shoulders. "The Ministry did this, the Slayers did that, the Death Eaters are doing God knows what. And for some reason, why am I always the one they have to blame?"

"I don't—"

"Because big, mean, nasty Buffy is a threat? I'll show them what a real threat is. When those Death Eaters are marching through, killing off everyone I care about—" Her voice became choked as she started to cry, her hands gesturing wildly as she struggled to get her thoughts out. "Oh, what do you know? It's not like you're even going to be there!"

"What do you mean?" he asked angrily. "I'm standing right here."

"You know what I mean," she snapped. "When the nasties start a'comin', where are you going to be? You'll be in the safety of your home! You don't know anything about war. I bet you don't even know what's at stake, what we're risking our lives for! You don't have to be a part of it!"

"Neither do you," he said calmly, folding his arms against his chest.

Buffy's gaze darkened further as she jerked her bag from underneath a chair. "You know that I am not going to stand by and watch my brother die. Heaven can't stop me. Hell won't stop me. The only thing that will stop me is death and if I die, I die. We all do… it's the gift of mortality. Some just see it faster than others."

"And if you think I'm going to stand by and watch you die, you don't know me as well as you think you do."

Her gaze leveled on his as she walked slowly towards him, the look on her face taunting. He knew he was baiting her and that was treading dangerous waters as it were. "Are you going to take up arms?" she asked him quietly. "Are you going to kill a man before he kills you?" She let out a breath in a scoff. "I don't think you have what it takes to kill. You are not meant to kill. Your hands are meant for greater things than death."

He let out a slow breath at her praise but knew it came with cost. "You are one of the most important things to me. If that means that I defend what I'm supposed to defend with my life, so be it."

"I will not ask you to die for me," she whispered. "Stay out of this fight. You don't want to get caught up in this."

"But what about you?" he demanded. "Whatever they've done, whatever they said – the pressure is killing you!"

"Maybe it's a sign," Buffy said, giving him a sad half-smile. "Maybe—"

"Don't say that," he said, reaching for her arms, his hands sliding to hers. "This is our future you're playing with here."

"Our future," she breathed. A moment later, she shook her head and closed her eyes painfully before pulling her hands from his. "I'm going to war and you're talking like I'm taking a trip to London! This is much, much bigger than the two of us, Oliver. This isn't just our future. This is the future of our entire world!"

His eyes closed in frustration. "I know, but—"

"A Slayer means death, Oliver. I am meant to kill. Maybe you've forgotten after a kiss here and a kiss there, but it all comes down to one thing. I'm a killer."

"I don't accept that."

"You don't have to," she said with a helpless shrug. "I do. And since you're not the voice of me now, I guess mine is the only one that matters."

"But I love you. Does that mean nothing?"

"No, it means something," she said, glancing at him with eyes that were too bright. "I guess a part of me will always know that, but I am not going to risk my life for you to act stupid and heroic. Love doesn't end wars. The only thing that solves war is death." She turned and continued searching for anything she might have missed.

"Where are you going at this hour?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the miserable weather outdoors.

"I have to get out of here," she mumbled, buttoning her coat. "I…"

Oliver watched her movements become more frantic. "Nothing is worth this," he said, gesturing to the ice outside.

She paused, a harsh laugh bubbling from her lips. "Maybe you don't think anything is worth this, but I almost lost a friend tonight. I may lose more if my friends don't get their heads screwed on straight. Percy—" Her voice caught up, because she didn't really want to talk about him, despite the fact that he was her friend. The sight of him lying there, weakened, bloodied and mocked by Faith… her eyes closed and another shadow passed over her face. "I have to go."

"What about Percy?" he asked calmly as he sat on the edge of his bed, watching as she jerked her pant legs over the tops of her boots. "Are you telling me that you're going out there because of him?"

"You don't—"

Oliver felt something settle inside of him. There was such passion in her face, such indecision… if only he could get inside her mind to see what she was thinking! "So you have to go running back to him, is that it?"

"Don't be stupid!" she shouted back. "I chose you, didn't I?"

"And look at where it's gotten us!" he yelled back.

"Don't play me, Oliver," she said, rising to her full height and squaring her shoulders. "I've been played enough." There was pain in her words. "I'm done being played with."

"Then maybe you should just go," he said in a hollowed tone. "You should see to your friends. Lord knows you haven't pissed everyone off."

Her eyes flared for a moment before she turned on her heel and pulled the door open, yanking it shut behind her. Her footfalls faded as she moved away, leaving Oliver in his room alone with his confused thoughts.

x-o-x

Though the others had left, he was most acutely aware that she was still sitting on his bed and she was still gazing at him. He ignored her, even as she tried to get his attention by stretching or clearing her throat or using an annoying little cough that had him sending reproachful glares at his feet. He wished he could ask her to leave, but he didn't have the heart.

Not when he was wondering why she had even bothered to come. Obviously he wouldn't forgive the intrusion. Even if he was British to the core, that spoke nothing of his duties as Watcher. He had failed the first time around and had royally screwed up the second time. This third time was his final chance to get things right. He had finally had some progress with Faith, watching as the young woman had matured these past few months. Being thrust into the light as the one Slayer had done wonders for her, changing and shaping the sharper corners of her aggressive personality. He hadn't had much pride in his work before, but the past few months had changed him, too.

But after another few moments, he couldn't hold his silence. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I don't want to leave."

"You really should before one of the Slayers returns," Wesley said in a tired voice as he looked at her. Her eyes rested on his face and he quickly looked away. "Family or not, Faith won't hold anything back."

"I take it you're proud of the fact that your Slayer has these violent tendencies?"

"Your entire family seems bred for violence," Wesley countered.

"Not mine," Tonks snapped. "My father was a Muggle."

"And that means so much to me," Wesley said sarcastically. Tonks rolled her eyes and pressed her hands to her face. "What I can't believe is that you knew something about the Slayer and you said nothing."

"It wasn't my confession to tell," Tonks said quietly.

"You could have saved us a lot of grief," Wesley persisted. "In case you haven't noticed, we don't like being pulled around like that."

"Our intentions were not that—"

"You could have fooled me," Wesley muttered under his breath.

Tonks shot him a quick glare. "Must I tell you what those Slayers did? Or what Buffy did? Harry's sister or not, she used the darkest magic last year."

"Does it really matter what she did? She doesn't go around killing people with curses. Nymphadora, do use your head! For God's sake, how many times does she have to lay her life on the line just to prove to your worthless government that the Slayers are actually not to be messed with? They are forces of nature… they need to be unleashed, not withdrawn. If anyone is to blame for Faith's or Buffy's anger…"

"If we had the choice to do it again, we would," Tonks said simply. "One Slayer was bad enough. We had no idea when they were brought here that they would carry that much darkness."

"You would say that of your own family?" Wesley asked her coldly. "Buffy is one matter. Faith is different. You may think Buffy more dangerous than Faith, but they are Slayers to the core and nothing, not even death, could tell them different save experience."

"Wesley…"

"No, you listen to me," he said, getting up from his seat. "How can you be so biased against Buffy unless it is because she's Harry's sister. After everything the Ministry put on him, after all the wrongs they did to him—"

"We have been paying for those mistakes," Tonks said earnestly, watching Wesley pace.

"But why, why would you take his family away? Why?" Wesley asked. "You and I both know something about the bitterness of family. You don't want to own up to the darker Blacks, like your mother's sisters, but you can't deny that they're your blood!"

"Because we needed to protect him!" Tonks cried out. "The Slayers are nothing but harbingers of death, misery and demons! Harry Potter does not deserve a life like that. He deserves more than anything that sister of his can give him. He is bound for a life better than this darkness, Wes. You know this."

"So what you're saying is that being a Slayer's brother is not good enough for him," Wesley said, his eyes narrowing. "After how many times my Slayers have saved the world…"

"It speaks nothing of their skill, but what they've done so far since they've come to England."

"You could have told me," he said, his voice a heated whisper as he pinned her with a sharp blue gaze. "You could have done something different. I don't give a damn about who you betray on your end, but by holding the truth, you betrayed my family and I won't have that."

"Wes—"

"Am I your enemy?"

Tonks stared at Wesley for a moment, her eyes widening. "What?"

"Am I your enemy?"

The thoughts that had been welling in her mind for some time now seemed quashed by the pain in those words. "How can you say that?"

"Because I did." His voice was firm and his eyes never left her face. "Am I?"

"You know that you're not my enemy," she said in a quivering voice.

"But my Slayers are."

Tonks remained silent. She didn't know what to say.

He sighed as he got to his feet, gesturing to his portrait hole. "Go."

"Wesley, please…"

"I have nothing to give you. If you feel that my Slayers are a threat after what they've proven themselves to be, then you are no longer welcome here. Go." He nodded at the door. Tonks got to her feet and stared at the Watcher, trying to read his expression. But his eyes were stony and cold and his posture erect and solid. It seemed as though he were determined to make a stand for the Slayers who couldn't seem to do so for themselves.

"I am not your enemy," she said earnestly, wanting to let her voice be heard before she walked out of his room and quite possibly his life. The friendship they'd developed over the past few months was crumbling beneath her feet. "I came to you tonight, didn't I?"

"I know you weren't responsible for Buffy, but Faith's incarceration last year…"

Tonks swallowed hard and shrugged helplessly. She had been partially responsible for apprehending Faith, but she wasn't about to admit that to Wesley. A cold feeling coiled in her abdomen, tears springing to her eyes. Why was it so important for her to defend her actions to this man? She didn't owe him anything!

And yet… as she stared at the coldness of his eyes, the chill deepened. There was more there than just friendship, she decided. And this confrontation was more than just crumbling their friendship. It was breaking her heart, which had already endured so much from Remus.

"You should leave before I do something I'll regret."

A single tear dropped from her eyelash, decorating her cheek with a frosty glow. "Please believe me," she whispered. "I didn't mean anything against you."

His sharp eyes held hers for a moment before he turned away. "I won't ask you again," he said coldly. Tonks turned and walked out through the portrait hole, drawing a deep, calming breath to soothe her nerves. But inside, she felt as though she were breaking. Pressing a hand to her eyes, she sank against the wall near the portrait hole in an attempt to pull herself together.

Inside his room, Wesley felt oddly comforted when his portrait closed. But inside, he felt conflicted. Part of him longed to wrap his arms around her and forget their mutual alliances. She was with the government. His loyalty belonged to the Slayers. The other part felt satisfied at the broken look on her face. He knew what he felt, but he knew she was too young to fully grasp those emotions. Watching Buffy muddle through hers was bad enough and she was just a few years Tonks' junior.

It was a small comfort to him that he managed to convince himself that Tonks and the werewolf deserved each other. No matter how his jealousy took that.

x-o-x

Faith drew in a deep breath as she settled herself under Harry's arm, her dark hair spilling across the bed. "Mm," she sighed, nuzzling his shoulder with her cheek.

"Now that," Harry chuckled next to her, "was good." His hand idly moved down from her hips below. Her eyes closed at the touch as she nipped at his shoulder before resting her head against the bone.

"You should stop before I get all worked up again."

"Do you really have that much to give?" he asked, those green eyes that much brighter as he observed a glow that seemed to set her pale skin on fire. It didn't help that he was afforded such a beautiful image. Her hand cupped his cheek as her lips teased his, her hands wandering across his chest.

"I'm spent," she moaned as she curled into his side. "At least for now, anyway."

"That's a relief."

Her hand vibrated as it smacked his chest. He blinked at the sharp stab of pain and the numbness that followed. His fingers from the arm wrapped around her lifted from her hips and began to idly stroke her dark hair. "I could have done with more of that," she said playfully as she walked her fingers across his chest.

"With whom?" he asked, covering her hand with his. She recognized the scars on the back of it as from when Umbridge forced him to cut into his own hand and write lines with his own blood. Her own body tensed at that and she bent over, pressing her lips to his scar.

"I do have a good history with B's men," she taunted, pulling back and shaking her head, her dark hair cascading down her back.

Harry made a sound between a hiss and a roar as he pulled her closer. She smirked widely at him as her thigh brushed against his hip, sliding farther up. She loved the way his eyes widened as she did something he wasn't expecting. It was something new with him, she decided. And then she decided she liked it. A lot.

"Are you saying you want me?" she asked lightly.

"I have you," he growled as she chuckled throatily, dropping her head onto his chest. He felt her cool fingers on his skin below the belt gently moving across his startled flesh. "I just wasn't sure if you wanted me."

"It wasn't the issue," Faith yawned as her lack of sleep began catching up with her. If there was one thing all of this foreplay was good for – aside from the mess they made of the room – it was a great stress reliever. Even Harry looked more relaxed as his eyes closed. She allowed herself to snuggle into his side and pull her arms up against her body as he settled a comforter over them. "Can I rest now?"

He dropped a kiss on top of her head as he resumed stroking her hair. "I think we could both do with a good bit of that."

"I like sleeping," she murmured, a slight smile on her face. "But I like this more."

"You like what?" he asked drowsily, glancing down at the obsidian mass spread across his chest.

"Pillow talk," Faith snickered as she wound her arm across his chest. "You know, the kind that doesn't involve some lord of the bed claiming his prickle made my itch any less than seventh heaven."

There was a beat before Harry added, "Did you want to talk about—"

"No, no," Faith whispered, blushing against his pale skin. "I meant non-dirty."

"So, non-dirty," Harry said, though his mind had already escaped to all of those dirty places. "You and my sister—"

"Harry!" Faith gasped, lifting her head to look at him, her dark eyes shining in the dim light. "You know a girl never kisses and tells!"

"Noted," he coughed as she settled back into his chest. "Non-dirty."

Her grin against his skin was bright. "You're going to get me all worked up again."

"And we wouldn't want that," Harry teased.

"Mm… not now. But I'm thinking that once this whole thing with Voldemort is over… maybe we could, you know, take off for a few days and see where it takes us?" She asked this question lightly, but she had been thinking about this for a long time. Once the war was over and Voldemort was dead, she would be free of this godforsaken curse. She could finally shove aside whatever fears were holding her back and do what she wanted for herself, for once. This wasn't a matter of wanting, taking and having. This was a matter of her soul. Part of this bright young man just happened to complete it. That was all.

"I think I'd like that, but…" His voice grew distant. "What makes you so sure that I'll win?"

"Because if you don't, we all lose," she said in a low voice. She didn't mean to turn this post-bliss into an angst-ridden talk about a post-war future, but she had to admit that his question did have some merit. "I'm not willing to lose anymore."

"And I'm not willing to lose you," he said fiercely, holding her even tighter to his chest.

"You're not going to because I'm someone who's very stubborn about getting her way," Faith said, one eyebrow arching as she lightly traced the spot where his ribs stuck from his skin. "And I'm thinking that you're my way."

"Perhaps in your way."

"Never happen," she yawned, slipping her opposite arm underneath his neck and drawing herself closer.

"What about Buffy?"

Faith felt a pang and a sense of sadness as she remembered what had brought her to this room in the first place. "If she ever forgives me, I guess we'll know." He didn't say anything. He didn't want to say anything that could spoil this for them.

She smothered a yawn as she flattened her hand on his stomach and closed her eyes, drawing in his scent. It wasn't anything she could ever forget. How could she forget this night? For once, she was able to throw her fear aside and be something rebellious. Wesley would probably curse her for it tomorrow, but tonight… she didn't care. As she drifted off to sleep with the thought of finally getting something right in her head, Harry stroked her hair, a comforting gesture she would never thank him enough for.

Harry just gazed down at her as her breathing slowly calmed until he was sure she was asleep. His mind was, for once, blissfully clear. Only one thing made sense and that was the dark-haired Slytherin in his arms. After recalling what Hermione said about breaking down the hostilities between the Houses, he thought that tonight he had done a rather good job of that tonight.

But there was one thing still left unsaid. There was still one thing he had to do. Lifting his hand to press a kiss to the crown of her head, he whispered, "I love you."

But Faith, not being as quite asleep as he had thought, smiled into his side as she let the words sink in.

x-o-x

Percy slowly opened his eyes as the feeling returned to his right cheek. He groaned and moved his head to the left and then to the right. His first surprise came when he saw his parents standing on one side of his hospital bed. His next surprise was the Emma hadn't left the other. She sat on the edge of the bed and the pressure he felt on his hand was actually her hand woven through his. He was surprised to see that there were steaks from dried tears that decorated her normally pale face, which was slightly flushed as her gaze dropped down to their hands. His fingers must have slipped between hers in his own oblivion. He felt slightly foolish, but the smile they shared was anything but.

"How are you feeling, son?" Arthur Weasley asked in a bright voice. After being summoned after the latest meeting of the Order, the last thing he imagined was to find his third-eldest son in the infirmary.

"Like I had one of those cartoon mallets you like so much fall on my head," Percy moaned, bringing his free hand up to cradle his head.

"My poor boy," Molly sniffled as she flung her arms around her son, her lips smacking his cheek loudly. "My poor baby boy."

Obviously his mother had gone around the bend since Bill had died. She had never cared to make such a fuss over him, even when he had almost died the previous Christmas.

"Mum, mum, I'm fine," he said, untangling his fingers from Emma's to push his mother hastily away. "It was just a little misunderstanding."

"I believe we should have a word about the likes of her being allowed to return to this school after this stunt she pulled," Molly said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Mum?" a feminine voice piped in as Ginny appeared in the doorway, followed by a sleepy Ron. "Mum, what's wrong? Professor McGonagall said something about Percy…"

Ron's eyes widened when he saw his elder brother laying pathetically on his cot, covered by cuts, bruises and swellings the size of a grapefruit. "What the bloody hell happened to you?"

"Ron!" Molly hissed, her penchant for foul language far defeating her youngest son's concern for his brother.

"Mum, he has a valid point," Ginny protested, pushing past Emma and sitting at the edge of his bed. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Faith," Percy and Emma replied in unison.

Ron's eyebrows lifted so high they almost disappeared under his hairline. "But why would she…? How…" his voice faltered as he realized something. "You didn't attack her, did you?"

"He took responsibility for the Ministry's actions in Buffy's relocation to Bulgaria," Emma explained to the Weasleys. "It wasn't his call, but he did it anyway. He knew that there would be consequences, but to face the ire of a Slayer…"

"Her bite is definitely worse than her bark," Percy winced, reaching for his glasses. Ginny caught her brother's pathetic attempt, rolled her eyes and retrieved them for him.

"You should know better than to get on her bad side," Ron said matter-of-factly, as though he had written the encyclopedia on Faith. "She's definitely got a temper."

"Nevertheless, she shouldn't be going around slugging our brother," Ginny said with a sniff, drawing up Percy's blankets in a way that his mother would have done. "I hope Dumbledore expels her for that."

Percy fought not to wince as he scoffed. "He won't."

"What makes you so sure?" Ron asked. "He told her she would only get one chance."

"How do you know so much about this?" Ginny asked, looking around at him. "You spent maybe three minutes talking and the rest snogging."

"Yes, well, but—"

Percy lifted his hand quietly. "I really don't care how my brother knows the Slayer, but the truth is… Buffy knows."

"It's better that she does," Ginny said quietly.

"She's also a bit brassed," Emma concluded sullenly. "She just ran away when Faith told her… like she couldn't take it anymore."

"Could you really blame her?" Ginny asked sharply. "After everything she's been through the past year and a half, I don't suppose a little support never occurred to any of you."

"That's why I wanted to be the one to own up to the sins of the Ministry," Percy murmured as he rested his head into a small mountain of pillows.

"Because you knew she'd forgive you," Ron realized.

Molly and Arthur watched as their children and Emma stood around, piecing together things that had happened. After a moment, he cocked his head to his wife and drew her from the infirmary. They were met outside by both Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"I think it'd be best under the circumstances that Faith remains at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said in a low voice even as Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to protest.

"Perhaps it would be best," Arthur conceded.

"Arthur!" Molly gasped, spinning around to him, shock written on her face.

"She has as much right to be here as they do," Arthur defended, gesturing inside to where Ron and Ginny were now arguing with Percy over which of his eyes was blacker. "And if her being here gives Harry a fighting chance, who are we to tell her otherwise?"

Professor Dumbledore gave Arthur a bright smile. "Well said, Arthur, well said. Now, if you please, I do have a matter of the Order I wish to discuss with you. After a most enlightening conversation with Miss Black, I do believe the time has now come for it."

"Lead the way," Molly said, her curiosity piqued. She took her husband's arm, casting a last look inside the infirmary before they were ushered away.

Inside, Ron and Ginny were babbling about nothing in particular. Percy didn't notice because he was staring at Emma. Even when his family was driving him insane, as they were now, she was far more pleasant to look at. She was smirking at Ron before her gaze shifted to his. It became almost shy as she came forward, her hand reaching automatically for his. He felt a spark as her fingers wrapped around his, providing silent support for the sound his siblings were making. For a moment, all the world belonged to them…

And she wasn't all that bad to look at, either.

Madame Pomfrey swept into the infirmary, took in Ron and Ginny babbling and set her foot down. "No more guests," she said calmly, looking pointedly at the door. "The patient needs to rest. You can see him tomorrow."

As Ginny and Ron said their good nights and swept out, Emma chose to remain at his side, even at Madame Pomfrey's glare.

"It's all right," Percy said, offering the healer a bright smile. "She's not the one bothering me."

Madame Pomfrey took in their locked hands. "Hmph," she mustered as she shuffled away.

"Thanks for that," Emma whispered.

Percy grinned up at her as she settled next to him. "It was nothing." As her hip bumped into his, he became acutely aware of how cute she was when she acted all awkwardly. "Really… nothing…"

x-o-x

Both Weasley siblings were quiet until they reached their Common Room.

"Have you seen Harry tonight?" Ginny asked him as they turned the last corner.

"He wasn't in bed when I left," Ron said, his voice rising in concern. "Do you suppose we should have raised some alarm?"

"I know he was waiting for Buffy, so I suppose he's in her room. It's not like they'd let him out of the school. Not now, anyway."

Ron gave her a comforting smile, gave the password to the Fat Lady and swept into the hole, his sister following behind him.

"How do you know so much about Faith, anyway?" Ginny asked curiously as they walked into the warm and comforting surroundings. "You two never talked when you were together."

"No, we didn't," Ron said vaguely. "And it doesn't matter how I know. All I know is that she's not nearly as thick as you all put her for."

"Obviously not," Ginny replied as she followed her brother to the stairs. "She wouldn't be in Harry's army otherwise." She paused before she walked up the steps to the boy's dorms. "'Night, Ron."

"Good night, Gin," he said, watching as his sister bounced off. He had the feeling that he was not the only one hiding something.

x-o-x

Two candles were the only light in the dining room at Grimmauld Place as Sirius bent over the dining table, pushing a mug of hot chocolate across the table. "There you go."

"Thank you."

He sat in his seat, waiting for her to say something. There had to be a reason why she would come to his family's house in the dead of night. Her excuse of having nowhere else to go just didn't sit well with him. "Buffy…" he began.

She set down the spoon she'd been stirring her cocoa with, blinking up at him with bright eyes. "Oh, I'm okay. I just needed someplace to go." At the sudden look in his eyes, she added hastily, "Someplace that isn't Hogwarts."

"Did something happen?" he asked quietly.

"You could say that," she whispered, her face falling. "I…"

"Hey," Sirius said, recognizing the blank look on her face followed by a hard sadness in her eyes. He hated seeing her like this. James certainly wouldn't stand for it. "Don't beat yourself up. Whatever this is, is it really worth these tears?"

"Everything is worth tears," she murmured.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?"

And so she did. She told him that she had suspected the Ministry being involved in her coma for some time. She told him that Percy had confessed that the Ministry had been involved, confirming her thoughts. And then she told him that Faith had laid the smack down on Percy just because the Ministry was involved. When she told him about Faith forcing her to choose between her friends and her, Sirius suddenly sat back, a drawn look coming to his face. "I had a feeling she was going to do that."

"You did?" she asked, not surprised. Sirius was Faith's brother after all.

He forced himself to nod. "A few days ago, she came just to tell me that she was going to make you choose between England and her."

"I really wish she didn't do that."

"She's an idiot."

Buffy felt a small curve of her lips at Sirius's sarcasm. "You'll get no argument from me."

"But she is also right. The Ministry has done quite a few questionable things and perhaps they can't be trusted. Your parents never truly trusted the Ministry, especially when their lives were endangered."

"They went to Dumbledore," Buffy said, realizing this. "Oh."

"They trusted him," Sirius said, with only a little bitterness in his voice. "They felt that he would do the right thing. And he did. If Peter hadn't betrayed them, everything would have worked out."

"And maybe then my family wouldn't be so broken," Buffy said sadly.

"You speak of family like it's a curse," Sirius observed, reaching for his own mug. "Have you even talked things out with Harry yet?" At Buffy's shifting eyes, he sighed. "You need to speak with him, Buffy. He might surprise you with his loyalty. He has always been Dumbledore's greatest hope and now all of our futures rest in him."

She was quiet for a moment, her thumb moving around the rim of her cup. At last, she met his gaze. "What if I told you that while I was in a coma, I was transported to a different world, almost like a dream? Would you think me crazy?"

"I guess that depends," Sirius replied with a frown.

"Mom and dad were still alive," Buffy said, her voice growing in intensity. "Harry, I and we had a sister, Dawn. We were all this happy family. Mom, dad and I worked on this police force together. And the reason I couldn't remember my life was because I had gotten shot saving your life."

Sirius made a sound as though to speak, but fell silent. The look on her face spoke volumes enough.

"I was engaged to a beautiful man who treated me like royalty and I had friends that were doing everything they could to help me remember. But I didn't want to remember. I wanted that life, to be the perfect wife and maybe a mommy someday. I loved my parents. I loved my job. And then they sent me back into the lion's den and the bad guys were all the Death Eaters." Again Sirius made to speak, but fell silent. "The tortured me. They… I can't even begin to describe the things they tried to get me to do, the things they tried to get me to admit?" There were tears in her eyes now. It was getting harder to speak as her voice was just starting to break. "I was shot because I refused to submit to them. And my mother…" Her voice broke now, the tears flowing freely. "They did everything in their power to save me and it wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough. And you… you never stopped watching out for me…"

Sirius felt the prickle of tears behind his eyelids, but refused to let these emotions show.

"And suddenly on my deathbed, they were there, telling me that there was still a chance because they had finally broken through to talk to me."

"It sounds like quite the dream," Sirius said gently, brushing his fingers across his eyes.

"That wasn't part of the dream," Buffy whispered. "They were real." Sirius's eyes widened as she took a second to collect herself. "They told me that there were more important things in my life than just my life. They reminded me of who I was and what I am – a Slayer. I was a Slayer before I came to England and I think, somewhere along the way, I had forgotten about what that means. But the most important thing they said was that Harry was the one they died for and they didn't have any regrets about it."

"No," Sirius murmured, "I don't suppose they would."

"They went through hell trying to find me locked in my own mind," Buffy said softly. "They convinced me that there are more important things worth living for. And I believe that, I really do. But part of me wants to believe in the dream that my friends are there to support me. They aren't fighting each other trying to win me over because in the real world, that doesn't happen. How in the hell do we have a chance if all we do is fight?"

"I've been wondering that very thing myself," Sirius replied.

"It doesn't matter what they are to me. What matters is what they bring to the table. The end is coming, Sirius, and it's going to be bad. People are going to die and nothing I do will change that. I might die, I might live."

Sirius let out a deep breath. "I quite imagine you'll get sick of hearing people say this, but things have changed since you left. Most of it has been for the worse, but some has been for the better. In case you haven't noticed, Faith is protected at Hogwarts. Not only does she have Dumbledore's protection, but the protection of the school itself. And I believe that it was fate that decided she should live with the Slytherins because not one of them has given the school or the Ministry any problems since she's lived there." He paused for a moment. "And I will not deny that things are not going to be bad, because we are both smart enough to admit that war has cost. We've both paid for it dearly."

"Yes, we have," she agreed. Part of her was glad that Sirius was squaring off with her. It was a relief that someone could spell it out for her because the vagueness was beginning to irk her.

"But we have been making preparations for the end. Dumbledore has a slight idea of Voldemort's final plans. They do include you and Faith, I don't deny that. But they also include Harry. Together, you are a triumvirate of good. But if he is able to activate you, Harry stands a real chance at losing."

"That's why we can't fail," Buffy agreed.

"Dumbledore believes that you three can handle yourself. But he knows the fight may come to Hogwarts. Voldemort has never been afraid of a challenge and the thought of casting down the school and the only person he has ever been afraid of in one fell swoop may prove too great to resist. He has always wanted Hogwarts for himself, knowing what enchantments the school has. There is one thing that can be done to protect the school, but I'm afraid the students will have to fend for themselves."

"They've proven before that they can handle that," she reminded him. "Harry's got Dumbledore's Army and we know that those kids are ready. They've been getting ready for—"

"I'm not quite sure Dumbledore is willing to let his students fight and perhaps die for the cause."

"I'm not sure he really has a choice," Buffy said quietly. "I mean, the government has proven it can be only partially trustworthy. They just got their asses kicked. What makes you think they're in any shape to help Harry out in this fight? He needs the students." She remembered how it felt when her fellow graduates took up arms against the Mayor-ascended-to-demon. The thought of being a general in another battle was motivating her.

"But there are worse things than just Death Eaters," Sirius reminded her. "There are Inferi, Dementors, Giants, likely other dark creatures like goblins, vampires, dragons—"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Buffy said, leaning forward. "Just let me know what I can do, okay? I want to help."

Sirius felt his eyes mist over as he gazed at the young woman sitting in front of him. "You truly are your father's daughter."

"That I will never get tired of hearing about," she said with a sad smile.

"The thought of losing you or Faith terrifies me," he admitted.

"The thought scares me too," she replied. "But I'm not afraid of dying. Not if it's for something I believe in. And I believe in Harry."

Sirius leaned across the table, resting his hand on hers. "As do I, my dear. As do I."

x-o-x

The bell tolled, signaling the end of the first class. Faith ran a tired hand through her hair as she collected her books, flashing a bright smile at Professor Snape before flouncing out of Potions on her way to Charms. Juliet was surprisingly silent next to her with the others, including Pansy and Millicent, talking quietly behind them.

Faith and Juliet led the way down the hallway, ignoring the group of Gryffindors walking in front of them. Well, she was trying to ignore them. She couldn't stop the flutter in her stomach as she recognized one Adonis moving easily at the head of the group, talking proudly about the army he had put together and what he would do to protect them. She couldn't help but sigh.

An elbow found her ribs and Faith found her attention snapping back to a curiously smirking Juliet. "Are you okay?" she asked in a teasing voice. "You've got that goofy look on your face and you haven't stopped grinning all morning."

So she had, but it wasn't like she was in a sharing mood. She just shrugged and continued on towards Charms when her attention was suddenly drawn to the courtyard. A single figure wrapped in a jacket was leaning against one of the arches, staring at the dim sunlight shining through the mist.

"Tell Flitwick I'll catch up," Faith said suddenly, stepping behind Juliet and heading outside despite her friend's protests. But her attention was focused on one person. "Hey, Buffy."

The figure leaning against the column tensed and slowly relaxed. "Hello, Faith."

"You know," Faith began without waiting for Buffy to tell her off, "it occurred to me that I never asked what you want."

"What I want?" came the dull reply.

"Yeah," Faith replied. "You know, we both get thrown here, we both suffer, blah, blah, blah. But that's just life. We take it and we deal. But it doesn't matter what we want because we only get what we have."

Buffy attempted to let the words sink into her sleep-deprived brain, but failed miserable. With a scoff, she flicked her gaze to her sister Slayer. "That didn't make any sense."

"And neither did I last night," Faith said quietly. "That choice… it was stupid. How could I ask you to choose between me and your friends?"

"It wasn't an easy choice to make," Buffy admitted.

"And when you disappeared last night, I got to thinking that maybe, just maybe, you didn't have to choose at all. I mean, why should you have to make the choice when the rest of us have already chosen? You made the choice when you came here."

"I chose Harry," she realized.

"We both did."

Buffy slowly wound her arm around the column and used momentum to swing around to face Faith. "You and I both know how important he is to the end here."

"He's more important than you and I even know," Faith agreed. "But I've made my choice. And maybe in the beginning I should have respected yours and I didn't. I'm sorry."

Buffy looked astonished that Faith had apologized to her. Since when did the dark Slayer know how to apologize? "I'm sorry, too," she said in a hushed voice. "For not trusting you, I mean."

"I didn't mean to hurt him like I said," she said, referring to Percy. "It's just… he made me so mad! The whole thing just got blown away and I—"

"Faith, its okay," Buffy said, reaching over and placing a hand on her arm. "I get it. I understand, I really do."

"A lot happened to me since you left," she said, biting her lip as she dug into her bag, fishing out the crumpled letter that she'd held onto for months now. "This is part of it. And that—" As Faith continued on, Buffy noticed a chain and part of a jewel hanging out of Faith's opened bag. Without really asking if it'd be alright, she lent over and retrieved the chain. Faith found her words clogged in her throat as Buffy held the necklace.

"Where did you get this?"

"From Angel," Faith said, wanting to be honest. "He said it had something to do with combining the power of souls or something. Wesley has been researching this for months. Its part of the reason Angel and Spike haven't left yet."

"Willow's in England, too," Buffy realized, not tearing her eyes from the necklace.

"So is Tara." At Buffy's curious expression, Faith explained who Tara was. "She's Willow's suitemate and a good friend of hers. Not to mention she knows wicked earthly magic." Her eyes went to Buffy's curious expression. "Are you okay?"

"I've seen this before," she said, giving it back to Faith. "In a dream." She shook her head as though to clear it. "We should… we should let the others know what's going on."

"What do you mean?"

"I spent some time last night thinking and I think the battle is coming."

"As in today?"

"As in this week or maybe the week after," Buffy replied, glancing around. "I think they deserve to know. They wouldn't be here if it wasn't to help you, Faith."

"What do I—"

"That chain belongs to you, doesn't it?"

"It belongs to one with supernatural powers which could mean either one of us…"

"And I think it looked fabulous on you then," Buffy said with a quiet smile. Then, glancing back out over the lake, she added, "I think our friends should be here. All of them."

"I'll make the call."

"Good," Buffy said, turning back to Faith. With a deep breath, she held out her hand. "Truce?"

Faith stared at the hand. In her wildest dreams, she didn't think apologizing to Buffy would be this easy, but honesty did have its perks. She quickly slipped her hand around Buffy's and grasped the older girl's wrist. "Truce."

"For Harry?"

Faith felt her eyes tearing up as she realized what these words meant. "For Harry."

x-o-o-x

In the next chapter… it begins.

**Author's Note**: So, just so you can get a good glimpse into the dark side of Voldemort, I do have companion chapters to this one. The sections I wrote just didn't fit. The link will be in my profile. I also have one written of the students in regards to their reaction to Harry's "we are now an army" speech. Just in case you wanted to read a bit more into this world… I promise the next chapter won't be two weeks off, but it marks a milestone.


	20. Come Together

**Author's Note: **So begins the end of the story. After three years, the end is nigh. For those of you who have read this story and stuck with me for the past three years, I don't think I could ever thank you enough.

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 20**

**Come Together**

x-o-o-x

"You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."

- Eleanor Roosevelt

x-o-o-x

It wasn't until late the following day that Harry and Buffy finally had a chance to talk together, much less spend more than a minute in the other's company. He found her in an unused classroom, staring at a roll of parchment in front of her. He rapped on the door and walked in, not bothering to ask her if it was okay. The look on her face was enough to tell him it was.

"So," she greeted, pushing the parchment aside.

"So."

There was a moment of silence before Buffy started snickering. Harry couldn't resist his own as he watched his sister lean back in her seat, putting her boots on top of the desk. "Where to begin," she finally said, cocking her neck from side to side and stretching her arms over her head.

"I could start," Harry offered.

"Please," Buffy rolled her eyes. "What could you possibly tell me that I don't already know?"

Harry shrugged. He wasn't quite willing to share his feelings for Faith yet; those were private. But there was always his army. "I'm getting the army ready."

"That's good," Buffy said approvingly. "I've been waiting for them to get it together."

"I'm adding in students who've graduated. I'd be insulted if you weren't one of them." At Buffy's bright smile, he rolled his eyes. "Like I really needed to ask, huh?"

Buffy's teasing smile faded from her face, only to be replaced by a serious expression. "Harry…"

He sighed, dropping into the chair in the desk next to the one she was at.

"I'm not going to give you a lecture. It's hardly a talk. It's just that… I think I'm beginning to understand the sacrifice mom and dad made. About why you're so important. Because you are. You are the most important person to this cause and it's like everybody wants a piece of you, everybody wants to control you. Even me."

"Buffy…"

"No, I need to get this out," she said, swallowing hard. "I guess my issues don't really matter now because there are bigger things at stake here than you and me. We have our differences. We have our faults. I may be the chosen one, but I'm not the one that's needed to be chosen here. That's your line. You've got this huge battle coming and the only thing I can do is whine, whine, whine. I'm not going to burden you with all the stuff I've gone through. You don't deserve that. You've got enough to be getting on with."

Harry stared at his sister for a moment before shaking his head. "I really wish you would talk to me," he said quietly. "It seems that every time we get to this point we fight and we talk and we fight and…" His words trailed off. "I just want things to be all right between us."

"You're my brother. You're my blood. Even if things weren't great between us, remember that no matter what, we still have that. And things are great between us."

"I missed you a lot," Harry said honestly.

"When all of this is over, we are so going on vacation," Buffy chuckled, leaning back in her seat and drawing her knees to her chest. "I'm going someplace warm that isn't a Bulgarian jungle."

"Was Bulgaria that bad?"

Buffy shrugged. "I was awake all of four days there. The other time not so much. But Germany seemed nice."

"It isn't fair that you got to do all this traveling," Harry sighed dramatically.

"I was unconscious!" Buffy protested. "That doesn't count."

"But you're awake now."

Buffy smirked. "Looks that way."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "I'm glad you're awake."

Buffy's lip quirked into a familiar half-smile. "Me, too."

Harry got back to his feet, stretching. Buffy also gathered her parchment and walked around the table, her arm threading through his. "Let's just get through the next few months first, right?"

"Must you discuss all this work?" Buffy asked, a hint of whine in her voice as they moved out into the hallways. "A sister's job is never done."

"You act like it's such a chore," Harry teased.

"No," Buffy said, a strange smile lighting her face. "It's my life. But it's a good life."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Buffy tightened her grip on him and sped up, dragging him through groups of students that just stood and stared. "Well, you don't have to run through life so bloody fast!"

Buffy laughed, her hair whipping in her face as she turned to look at him. "It's what I do."

x-o-x

Faith took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the Infirmary. As much as she hated to be in here, she needed to do this. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Only one bed was occupied and its occupant she put there. Exhaling slowly, she moved into the room. The occupant appeared to be sleeping. Faith froze, torn between leaving and coming back later or just charging forward. She decided on the first, turning back towards the door but found someone blocking her path.

"Good—" Faith muttered, stepping back and lowering her fists which had instinctively clenched and raised. She stepped out of her defensive stance. "You should make some noise, wear a bell or something. Sneaking up on a Slayer is like a death wish."

Madam Pomfrey wore a patronizing smile, one eyebrow arching as she gazed at the shorter girl. "You shouldn't be in here, Delita."

Faith winced at hearing her real name, shaking her head. "Damn."

"My patient needs his rest," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. "He doesn't need another black eye."

"I wasn't going to hit him," Faith protested mildly. "I'm here to apologize." At the nurse's surprised look, she shrugged helplessly. "I don't expect you to understand."

Madam Pomfrey studied Faith for a moment before stepping around her. "I believe you aren't here to cause trouble. But in the case that my patient is attacked, I won't leave you alone with him. Bad things tend to happen when you two are left in a room together."

"Whatever," Faith said, crossing her arms in front of her stupid Slytherin robe. At Madam Pomfrey's sharp look, Faith chuckled and held up her hands. "I promise I won't hurt him."

"Don't worry," said a weak voice from the bed. "I'm armed and can fight back."

"That's not fair," Faith said, pointing at Percy who was smirking at her from his hospital bed. "He has magic and I don't."

"You got your right hook," Percy groaned, wincing as he lifted a bandaged hand and pressed it to his face.

"Oh, you little wuss! You grow up in a house with, what, five brothers and you're whining that a _girl _hit you?" Faith taunted.

"Behave, children," Madam Pomfrey said, busying herself with replenishing what few supplies she'd used the night before, if not to eavesdrop on the troublesome Slayer and her patient.

Faith sighed and shuffled her feet towards Percy's bed. "You look like you got the crap kicked out of you."

"I think I got the crap kicked out of me," Percy groaned, lowering his arm. "Luckily for me, she didn't break anything major."

"Did she break anything?" Faith asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.

"My pride, my ego and quite possibly every blood vessel in my face."

"You really are a wuss," Faith groaned.

"But I'm not going to deny that I didn't deserve it," Percy said, his tone dropped as he turned his head so that his eyes could meet hers all the while moving his head as little as possible. "I think I had some sense knocked into me after all."

"You didn't deserve it," Faith said with a sigh. "I may have been a little harsh."

"My left eye thanks you."

"Your left eye looks kind of hot. I like guys with black eyes. It's how I like 'em best."

Percy's eyes widened in horror. At seeing her teasing grin, he shook his head. "You're a tease."

"Oh, I like being a tease. It's far better than a feared mass-murderer."

Percy sighed as he stared at the ceiling. "I didn't want her to get hurt."

"Neither did I," Faith murmured.

"But she got hurt," Percy said quietly. "She got hurt and somebody I work with made the decision to hurt her. I need to tell you I would never hurt her."

"Because you love her, right?" Faith asked dryly.

"I do."

She turned to him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You do." It wasn't a question. It was a grim realization.

"She is one of the best things that has ever happened to me," Percy replied. "And I'm not just saying that because I love her. I'm saying that because, in a way, she's saved me."

"She has a tendency to do that," Faith said with a quiet smile as she sat down on a stool at his bedside. "She sees good in people. Sometimes she believes more in them than what they know. She's a good person. She doesn't deserve half of what they did."

Percy shook his head faintly. "She doesn't."

"And neither does Harry." Percy's eyes narrowed at the sharpness in her voice. "I hope you realize that once this is all over, he's going to say to hell with the Ministry. They don't deserve him. They don't deserve any Potter… or Black."

"I won't argue with you when you're brassed," Percy murmured.

The bell tolled and Faith glanced at the door. Madam Pomfrey was brushing imaginary wrinkles out of the curtains that surrounded the bed across from Percy's.

"I should get to class," Faith said. "But I wanted to say I was sorry."

Percy stared at her so incredulously that Faith found herself gazing at her robes, wondering if she was suddenly covered in green goo. Once she realized what he was getting at, she rolled her eyes, scoffed and walked out of the Infirmary, Percy still staring after her.

"That was certainly a pleasant visit." Apparently Percy wasn't the only one surprised. He turned to Madam Pomfrey, who wore a shocked expression. "I wonder if the world was going to end."

"She just wanted to say her piece," Percy replied as the nurse bustled off with other chores. "You can't fault her for that."

x-o-x

By late afternoon, the staffroom at Hogwarts was full of people. Most were members of the Order of the Phoenix. Buffy was wedged between Sirius and Remus, her gaze focused on the ceiling. The air was tense and nobody spoke, alluding to the seriousness of the meeting that had been called to order just an hour before. There was a chill in the air that had been there since they had first arrived.

Finally, after long moments of silence between murmured warnings, Buffy had had enough.

"You know what the worst part about this is?" she asked, getting to her feet. She felt the weight of their stares, from calculating to exasperation. "We have no choice but to accept it. They're coming and there's nothing we can do? I don't accept that."

"Buffy," Sirius said, tugging at her arm. She glared at him as she pulled her arm back.

"No, I am _not _going to just sit down and wait to die. I'm sorry, but I'm not that girl. Right now, your purpose was fighting Voldemort, tracking his Death Eaters, figuring out which allies he has now and which ones decided not to join the black parade. But right now, we need more than just information. So the giants are with him. We've got two of our own."

"She's right," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "We do have two capable giants of our own."

Buffy gave her former Head of House a bright smile. "So they've got these creepy Inferi zombie thingies that took out half of the Ministry of Magic. The magic that charms them can be blocked. Do we not have some of the most powerful Witches and Wizards in the world within these walls? We've got resources, people, so it isn't like we don't have anything!"

"Buffy, sit down, please," Remus said, tugging on her other sleeve. With Sirius's help, they were able to pull Buffy down.

"I was only trying to help," Buffy scoffed, pulling her arm from the older man and glaring at everyone around the room. "You would do it, too. Admit it… you're scared. And why shouldn't you be? Weren't you in this same place sixteen years ago? Why are we sitting here when he could be traipsing through the Dark Forest at this very second?"

"We do have information on the current location of select Death Eaters and several of his current dark creatures in the army we believe he will use," Tonks said.

"I wasn't asking you," Buffy said coldly, her eyes narrowing. "And I don't remember agreeing to be here with representatives from the Ministry of Magic."

"She is also a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Miss Potter," Professor Dumbledore said from his position near the front of the room, his fingers bent in a tent underneath his chin. "You would do well to remember that."

"You want to know what I remember?" Buffy asked coolly.

"Buffy, now is not the time. You and Tonks can fight it out once all of this is past."

"I look forward to it," Buffy sneered, her eyes cutting as she eyed the purple-haired Auror at the other end of the room. Taking a deep breath, she felt some of the tension ease out of her body as she turned back to the Headmaster. "What we need is a plan."

"From what little information we have been able to gather, we do believe that Voldemort will come for the school. What he wants is here," an Order member Buffy couldn't remember said, leaning forward in his seat. "We have Harry, Dumbledore, you and Faith, the school itself and—"

"That'd be a really, really good reason to spread us out a bit, don't you think?" Buffy asked sharply, looking around the room. She didn't know why they were all afraid to speak up for. She was just going to have to do it for them. Once she had a plan, she came through with that plan. She frowned slightly as she started to formulate a plan. She turned to the caretaker, Filch. "How many passageways are there out of the school?"

"That I know of, personally? Six," Filch replied, cradling his beloved cat in his arms.

"Six, huh?" Buffy asked, turning back to the table. "Does everybody know about them?"

"Not that we know of," Filch grunted.

"What are you getting at?" Sirius asked her.

"We need those entrances covered," Buffy replied, folding her arms and leaning back in her seat. "Even if they don't know about it, chances are Voldemort does. I can do that."

"You?" spluttered another Order member that Buffy couldn't remember. "Why you?"

"Because I'm a Slayer, you moron," Buffy snapped. "I know how to fend off the baddies. If you have any questions, just ask every single student that's still alive after what we did to Sunnydale High. You need someone that can hold the front line. I can buy time."

"Time for what?" Remus asked.

"We all know what Harry needs to do. We all know that Harry is the man to do it. Whether I like it or not, what happens when it does will decide the fate of the rest of us. I'm thinking that Voldemort is too smart to storm the front door. He knows that it'll be protected. He'll come through the back, too. That's where I'll be, giving Harry his time."

"Anyone that would lead such a feat may not survive it," Professor McGonagall said softly. "Are you sure you're willing to do this?"

"I am," Buffy replied. "You need a Slayer on the front line."

"What about Faith?" Sirius asked. "Where does she stand in all this?"

"Exactly where she needs to be," Buffy smiled. "She's staying here."

"Here? To do what? Lead the fight inside?" Buffy couldn't help but chuckle at Sirius's concern. It was very 'big brother' of him.

"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "She'll be with Harry."

"Are you sure that's smart?" Sirius asked in a hushed voice.

"I believe in my heart that she won't do anything to hurt him, even if it was forced upon her," Buffy replied with a sad smile. "She's the only one strong enough to protect him. Everything else is already on the board."

"Meaning you have plans for all of us?" Remus asked mildly.

Buffy smirked at him before turning back to the rest of the room at large. "As a matter of fact, I do. Here's what we know thanks to the information provided by the Order. And this is how it's going to go down…"

x-o-x

"This place is incredible," Tara said, her voice echoing in the magnificent hall as the doors closed behind them. Willow just stared, wide-eyed like the little girl in a candy store, around at the high ceiling, the four pillars filled with jewels and the great doors that closed off where she supposed the students were. "Willow?"

The redhead shook herself out of her stupor and offered the other woman a bright smile. "Sorry, just feeling a little envious. Can you believe this is where Buffy and Faith have spent the past year?"

"It doesn't really seem fair," Tara smiled as she moved into the entrance hall, pulling her bag over her shoulder. "I suppose we should be grateful that we were invited."

Willow beamed at her as they continued walking about the hall, admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the grounds and the magnificent staircase to their left. They only snapped to attention when they heard voices from their right. They both turned as figures approached. There were four of them that seemed not to notice the two women in the entrance hall. They just continued in separate directions until they disappeared from sight.

"That was odd," Willow breathed. They stared after them, not noticing a fifth figure had walked up behind them, watching them with amusement.

"Seeing ghosts, are we?"

Willow nearly jumped as she spun around, her hand moving to her throat as she saw Buffy's bemused smirk. "Funny," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Very funny."

"I'm so happy to see you!" Buffy murmured, flinging her arms around Willow and holding her close.

"But we were just here when—" Tara's voice failed at Buffy's confused look. She just stepped forward with a shrug. "I'm Tara."

"I've heard about you, mostly from my brother," Buffy said, enthusiastically hugging Tara before the taller girl could slip away. "I'm Buffy."

"Willow's told me so much about you," Tara murmured.

There were shadows approaching from the right again. Buffy saw these and quickly slipped her arms into Tara's and Willow's, pulling them towards the staircase. "I'm going to show you to your room, if you don't mind," Buffy said in a rush of words as they started their ascent up the steps. "I then have to get to a meeting. There are a few others here."

"We know," Willow replied. "We were just here."

"Angel and Spike have moved from Sirius's to one of the lower dungeons, but they'll be up as soon as I send word," Buffy continued as they approached the threshold. "And here we are."

Willow and Tara couldn't help but admire the endless tower of staircases. What also took them by surprise was the insane amount of staircases moving… including the one beneath their feet.

"Ooh, hurry," Buffy said, running lightly forward onto the next level, the other two women cautiously following. "Have you heard anything from Xander?"

"He'll be here," Willow said firmly. "I told him what was going on and I think he was waiting for it to happen."

"Great," Buffy said as they continued along to an open doorway at the other end of the level. "Here we are." A few doorways later, she stopped in front of a painting. She knocked on it until the painting started muttering at her. Willow stared at the painting, poking it a little.

"I know you told me the pictures moved, but this is just weird."

"Welcome to my life," Buffy said. She then told the painting, "Codswallop" and it swung open, muttering still. A warm, inviting glow came from within and Buffy closed her eyes as a warm rush of air nearly tempted her enough to not go where she was about to. "In you go. I'll be back in about an hour."

"Where are you—"

"In an hour!" Buffy replied, glancing down the hall. "I'm already late and he _hates _it when I'm late. We'll catch up later, okay?" Turning, Buffy ran down the hall, disappearing quickly from sight.

"So, that was Buffy?" Tara asked Willow curiously as they walked inside.

"She's usually less spastic," Willow assured her as they stepped inside. At the circle of faces awaiting them, Willow suddenly felt her shyness returning. "Um, hello there…"

x-o-x

The door to the Room of Requirement opened and Buffy ran in, panting. Her hair, which had been tied back earlier, was now hanging erratically around her face. Though a Slayer, she seemed out of breath, having just run four flight of moving steps. Hermione watched Buffy curiously from her cushion, book propped in her lap. "Am I late?" Buffy rasped, clutching her side as she caught her breath. "Is it over?"

"It hasn't begun yet," Hermione assured her, marking her page and setting the book aside. "Did you just rush up here?"

"Order… meeting… Dumbledore… strangle him… argh!" Buffy sank on the cushion next to Hermione. "He basically told me I was going to miss this meeting if I didn't hurry my ass."

"Obviously he hasn't lost his sense of humor," Hermione commented as she picked up her book again.

"I think he was annoyed that I sort of took over his meeting," Buffy admitted with a pout.

"That's probably true."

Buffy grumbled as she stretched in her seat. "I couldn't help it though. They were all sitting there looking like lost kiddies wondering where Daddy had gone. It was so disturbing."

"That and you're just a take charge kind of girl," Hermione replied.

"I'm just sick of all the sitting around and the doing nothing and the waiting to die part. I'm not sorry I did what I had to do."

A wary look suddenly crossed Hermione's face. "What did you have to do?"

"Make plans," Buffy replied crossly. "I'm sitting there with a stupid map telling people where they go to wait to die." She scoffed in disgust, staring at the floor. "I used to have so much fun coming up with the plans. I actually felt like part of the Scooby gang."

"Do the others know about your brilliant plan?"

"Not yet," Buffy admitted. "This is why I'm here. To let you in on the plan."

"And what is this plan?" Hermione asked.

Buffy gazed at her thoughtfully. "I'm not sure you want to know."

"I do," Hermione said simply. "I assume you're doing something rather dangerous and exciting."

"Could be."

"You're going to be vague, aren't you?" Hermione said. "You don't think I have what it takes to do what you do."

Buffy stared at the spot on the floor as she fought with herself on whether or not to tell Hermione the truth about that. She finally decided that the truth wouldn't hurt. "You're wrong about that. Aside from the professors, you're one of the most gifted, capable Witches I have ever met. It would be stupid of me to ignore that."

"What do I do?" Hermione asked.

"I tasked myself to protect the seven entrances into Hogwarts from Hogsmeade," Buffy explained. "Harry is going to duel with Voldemort. I've asked that the students remain under lockdown until the attack is over. I've also asked that Dumbledore's Army remain in the school."

"What about me?"

"I need someone to lead them."

"What about Harry?" Hermione breathed.

"He's got enough to do, don't you think?" Buffy asked lightly. Hermione nodded seriously. "I don't trust anyone else to do it the way I know you can. You've thrown yourself into some pretty heavy research and I know that, when the time comes, you'll be able to protect them."

"This is big," Hermione murmured. "I'm not sure how many would feel about a Muggle-born protecting them."

"You're a hell of a Witch," Buffy replied, leaning over and taking Hermione's hand. "They couldn't ask for better."

Hermione was quiet for a moment before she added, "What about Faith?"

Buffy didn't answer as the door burst open and Harry casually strolled in with Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. His eyes widened as he saw his other best friend and his sister lounging on cushions looking as though they thoroughly enjoyed some serious girl talk. "Oi, you two," Harry grinned, waving them over. Buffy and Hermione exchanged an annoyed look before getting to their feet and shuffling towards the boys.

"What's up?" Buffy asked, wrapping an arm around her brother's as she stared at what he was holding in his hand.

"Just trying to see where—hey, what the hell are you doing?" Buffy had just snatched the Marauder's Map out of his hands, her eyes gleaming.

"Oh, this map… this stupid map! I should have seen this coming."

"You're going to give it back!" Ron pouted.

"I didn't kick your puppy, so back off," Buffy told him, turning back to the map. "Harry, the seven entrances from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, where are they?"

"Why?" Harry asked slowly.

"Because I need to know," Buffy replied impatiently. "Now, come on, time is of the essence. There are thirteen dots heading in our direction and I want to be able to give good instructions."

Harry's face fell. "I assume you're not here as my sister and quite possibly my lieutenant?"

"You assume right," Buffy said, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "I'm here as a member of the Order of the Phoenix here to hand out assignments. I'll wait for the others, but… where?"

Harry showed her the seven parts on the map. Finally, he said, "You should just take the twins with you. Aside from Filch, they know every single hidden nook, cranny and hidey hole of this castle."

Buffy's eyes gleamed as she considered this. "You may be right."

"I know I'm right," Harry mumbled as Buffy relinquished control of the map back into his hand. "You look so serious."

"There are serious times, little bro," Buffy replied, turning to the door as a group of Hufflepuffs walked in. They were followed closely by Faith and a girl Buffy didn't know. Faith quickly introduced her to Buffy as Juliet Rosier, daughter of a former Death Eater and one that was sort of in their former position. Buffy just nodded at them and waited until thirty-some kids gathered inside, all with their eyes directed to Harry.

Harry turned to Buffy. "You should start."

"You sure?"

"You're the general," Harry said regretfully.

"Right you are," Buffy said, pushing herself off of the table she'd been sitting on and speaking to the room at large. "Hi, some of you might remember me as the slightly evil bitch who decided to steal lots of dark magic last year. I don't plan on a repeat of last year, so I'll keep it brief. I've got jobs for everyone. And I do mean everyone." Her eyes shifted to the two Slytherins.

"Professor Sprout just told us that she's locking the Hufflepuffs in our Common Room," Ernie MacMillian said.

"The same happened with Professor McGonagall," Ron added with Ginny voicing a second on that.

"I understand what your Heads of Houses said to you," Buffy said, holding out a placating hand. "I'm not one to go against doing what you're told, but then again, weren't you the ones who decided to insurrect and fight back when Umbridge and the Ministry took over Hogwarts?" At their silence, she smiled and continued. "Well, here's your chance to fight the baddies. Aside from the few of you who have other things to do, I assume that you'll be brave enough to protect this school. I won't ask this lightly as anyone who chooses to do what I'm about to ask you to do… there's a chance you won't see the end of it." She saw Hermione swallow visibly, but the intensity in her eyes never dimmed.

"Buffy, you don't have to ask us," Ginny said, speaking up. "We're in this… to the end. For Harry."

"For Harry," a few others murmured.

Harry felt his eyes mist over as he turned to his sister, who gave him a bright smile as she bent up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "For Harry," she murmured, pushing him to the front of the room. "They're yours."

"What about—"

"Not my job," she said, cocking her head towards Hermione, who sat up a bit straighter and didn't meet his mortified gaze. Faith's eyes narrowed as she tried to read her sister Slayer's body movements.

"What?" Juliet breathed into Faith's ear. "She's about to let a Mudblood like Granger lead us?"

"Like you're up for the job," Faith hissed back. "Buffy has a plan. I know that look. I've seen that look before… right before we blew up Sunnydale High."

Juliet gave Faith a half-panicked look that in any other situation would have Faith punning. Instead, the other girl shuddered and looked away. "Bloody hell."

x-o-x

"Tea?"

"Thank you," Willow said, taking the cup with a shaking hand. Sitting on the bench next to Tara, she held the warm cup, unable to stop trembling. "Wow."

"You've said that," Giles said dryly, taking his own mug and sipping from it. "Five times."

"I know, but wow," Willow continued. "I mean, has she completely lost her mind?"

"It isn't too much to assume that she isn't taking such a great leap of faith here, Will," Angel said, comfortably crossing his legs and surveying the redheaded witch with amusement. "From what I've been told, you're a hell of a Witch." His gaze shifted to Tara. "The both of you."

"But to invoke those kinds of magicks," Willow murmured uncertainly, "I'm not sure if I can do that."

Tara let out the breath she'd been holding for the past ten minutes since Giles first began telling them the plan. They weren't alone. There were friends of Buffy's that were present, including a twin pair of redheads and a pretty dark-haired girl. But she wasn't about to let Willow falter now. "I can," she offered, wishing for once that she could speak loud when the situation warranted it. "I'll do it."

"Tara?" Willow whispered, turning to her.

"You need to invoke the forces of life to repel the spirits of the dead," Tara replied. "I can do that."

"Are you certain?" Wesley asked, crossing the room. He'd been pacing since Giles started explaining what was going on.

"Positive," Tara replied firmly. "You can count on me."

"And me," Willow replied. Tara looked at her. Willow just smiled. "You're my friend. There's no way in hell I'm leaving you there alone."

"As for the rest of the plan, we're part of Buffy's arena," Giles replied curtly. He still hadn't been able to sit his Slayer down and figure out what was going on with her. But Wesley had been invited to the meeting earlier that afternoon and he had returned with Buffy's plan. Giles had to admit that his Slayer could come up with something solid in such a short amount of time. "We've also got a few more coming from Sunnydale."

"We've been looking over Teeny's plans and they're quite foolproof," one of the twins said, stepping up, his freckled face reflecting the bright firelight. "We're going to offer our shield charms and anything you may need. Knowing Teeny, she's already thought of everything."

"Except one thing," the other twin said from his seated position.

"What's that?" Willow asked.

"This," the twin said, coming forward and showing off a complicated-looking star chart. The dark-haired girl that had been lingering in the background came forward, curious.

"Been spending time with Trelawny's cooking sherry again, George?" she murmured as she stared at the chart. A moment later, she straightened. "Oh."

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" the twin asked her. "You were always great at Astronomy, Em."

"It isn't the stars that are here, it's the moon," Emma whispered. "It's in line with the sun."

"And that means…"

"An eclipse," Giles concluded. At Emma's look, he added, "Am I right?"

"Yes, sir," Emma replied cautiously, giving the Watcher a rare smile. "But time… we don't have it. He must have known."

"Those dark creatures above ground aren't all he'll play with come eclipse-time," the twin replied in a deep voice as he pulled the star chart away. "That also means—"

"Vampires," Willow whispered. "And, knowing how many are probably drawn to his cause…"

"There could be thousands of them," Wesley concluded.

"I think I need to sit down," Willow moaned.

"Will, you are sitting down," Tara replied softly, taking her hand with a strength Willow didn't know she possessed.

"It seems like Voldemort is getting everything he wants," Emma said in a hushed voice. "He took out the Ministry so that they wouldn't be able to help us. We're as good as on our own."

"But you don't know the best part," one of the twins said with a bright grin.

Emma's eyes immediately widened in horror. "Oh, Merlin, no… what did you two do?" At their identical evil grins, she couldn't help but gasp out, "What did you two do now?"

"Let's just say that knowing our dear Slayer has given us a new market," the other twin said fiercely. "And that is something we intend to use."

"I don't want to know," Willow muttered, feeling a chill creep over her. "This just went from bad to worse."

"How bad could it be?" Tara asked curiously.

"You don't want to know," Willow replied, remembering the twins' antics from the time she had spent around them.

"We've faced odds before," Angel said.

"Not like this, we haven't," Giles snapped, getting to his feet. The room was silent save the crackle of the fireplace. "This… this is world-changing."

"It's been awhile since we had an apocalypse, hasn't it?" Willow asked with a wry smile. "Seems like only yesterday."

Giles gave her a reassuring smirk before turning to the others. "Whatever happens will happen. We can only do our duties the best way we are able and know that in the end, we are doing the right thing, even if it means our lives."

"It may come to that," Wesley added. "We may all die, but we die believing in a better future."

There was silence as everyone thought about what had just been said. Finally, Giles reached behind him, taking the teapot. "Who wants a refill?"

x-o-x

The only light in the Gryffindor Common Room late that night was from the fire. Hermione sat curled up in an armchair, blinking at the flames. Crookshanks was curled up next to her, Hermione's hand idly resting on fur. Spells, enchantments, wand motions and books fluttered through her mind, each one willing to give her the information needed to do what she had to do. If only one could give her a spell to quell her nerves. Her spine felt like it was crawling.

She heard a soft noise behind her. She didn't need to look around to see who it was. A figure slipped solemnly from the shadows and sat on the other chair near hers that faced the fire.

"You're not going to talk me out of this," she said, rolling her eyes towards his face, which was tight and pale.

"I don't mean to," Harry said quietly. "It's just that… this is really happening, isn't it?"

"You can't hide from your fate forever," Hermione murmured, turning her gaze back to the fire. "None of us can."

Harry sighed as he rested his head against the fabric, feeling tears prickle his eyes. "I always thought it'd be like old times," he said in a soft voice. "The three of us charging ahead, going where we shouldn't be going, breaking the rules, toeing the line and occasionally crossing it. I never thought it'd come to this."

"You know why we can't all be together on this, right?" she asked him, her voice muffled by the arm that her head leant against.

"I know," Harry replied. "But I don't agree with it."

"You don't have to," Hermione sighed, pushing herself up into a seated position. "But we're going to do what we have to do, you know?"

"I do know," Harry murmured. "It's just… I'm scared."

"I am, too."

Harry let out a chuckle, running a hand down his face and straightening his glasses. "I don't know why, but suddenly I'm terrified."

"It's okay to be afraid," Hermione said lightly. Harry smiled at her and reached across the arm of his seat to take her hand. "I think anybody in their right mind is afraid. But at least it's almost over, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, curling up in his seat as his fingers wrapped around hers. "It's almost over."

There was the sound of shuffling on the footsteps as a yawning figure approached, a hand running through flaming hair. "What are you two doing up? It'd the middle of the bloody night!"

Hermione pulled her hand away from Harry's as she leaned back down in her chair, pulling Crookshanks tightly to her. "Pull up a chair, Ron."

"Some of us were sleeping before some of us made bloody ruckus," Ron said sourly, glaring at Harry as he dragged a third armchair over to the other two and sat heavily in it.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry admitted apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's orright," Ron yawned. "Things are pretty at night."

"Things are pretty stupid at night, you mean," Hermione shot back.

As Harry watched Ron and Hermione banter back and forth, he felt the swell of emotion in his throat as he watched his two best friends. They had all grown up together, from the stupid kids that pushed the line to see how far they could go before they broke the rules. Now they were at the top of their grade, the last of their kind… it was enough to make a grown man cry. He really did love his friends, for better or for worse. After all they had been through in the past seven years… he wanted to see what it was like at the end, with no Voldemort and no more darkness. And he couldn't imagine two better people to complete this journey with him than his two best friends who were sitting on either side of him, arguing about nonverbally transfiguring a toad into a toadstool.

x-o-x

"You look like you could use a friend."

"I could. Many in fact," Buffy said, holding her portrait open as Faith strolled into her room. "It's late. Aren't you under curfew?"

"All I had to do was threaten to hurl Mrs. Norris out the window on the fifth floor and Filch was like jelly putty in my hands."

"Got to love a man who responds well to violence," Buffy chuckled as she sat down at the end of her bed. Faith took one look around the room, her eyebrows lifted.

"No Oliver tonight?"

"Nope, no Wood for me." At Faith's incredulous look, Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that sounded lame to me, too."

"Not a bad pun if I do say so myself," Faith said cheekily.

"So, you rang?"

"I've got cross news," Faith replied, pulling the amulet out of her bag and handing it to the older Slayer.

"Hmm, the one from my hallucinogen dream?" Buffy queried, studying the amulet. "It's cute in a sort of Romanov fashion."

"It was apparently created a thousand years ago, around the time when the Hogwarts founders were just about done completing their work on this place. So not only is it some historical artifact whose hour-long history lesson I apparently slept through, but it's protected by the magicks of 'those who came before it'. Something about the bearer being able to use those that fell before it to power it. Something like that."

"That makes no sense," Buffy replied, handing back the amulet.

"It'll make sense come battle time."

"Speaking of that," Buffy said, "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"Harry."

"What?" Faith asked.

"Harry. I've been giving out assignments all day. I'm all given out. But if there's one person whose life I value more than my own, it's his. He's got to reach that final battle alive and I know the one person who can get him there is you."

"Are you kidding me?"

Buffy shook her head. "Sorry. I wish I was, but…"

"What about the letter? Did you even read that letter? And the curse? What about the curse?" Faith held up her arm, the Dark Mark flashing dangerously on her right arm.

Buffy drew a deep breath, pulling a pillow to her chest. "There is no one else to do this, Faith. They could ambush him so that all Voldemort has to do is stand there and cackle. Have you ever heard him cackle? So, so evil."

"But…" How was Faith going to explain her feelings for Harry to his sister? She felt a slight blush on her cheeks and quickly looked away in a half-assed attempt to hide it.

"I know you care about him. It's obvious how deeply he cares for you. When the time comes, when everything is on the line, you'll know how you really feel about him. But for now, I need you to stop being afraid and to help a sister out here. I've got my own battle to fight. I might not get back…" Buffy's voice broke slightly and she quickly drew a hand to her lips as though the words pained her to continue. "Please, please do this for me."

"You know me, B," Faith said with a half-smile, looking at the other Slayer. "We've been through so much together in these past two years. If you want me to go down saving the world by saving the chosen one, who am I to argue? But the Mark…"

"If this thing does what he wants it to do, I fully intend to jump out the nearest window so I don't do something stupid," Buffy muttered.

"Right there with you, sister friend," Faith replied, satisfied. "So… any timeline for the dark days?"

"Soon," Buffy replied. "Something about having a solar eclipse that'll allow a huge army of vampires to ransack the castle aside from thousands of other baddies."

"Kind of makes you hope for the good ol' days, huh?"

"Oh, yeah."

x-o-x

When Harry woke up a few mornings later, he knew it was the morning. He felt it in his blood, in his bones. He wasn't the only one. The entire school seemed subdued, even buzzing with nervous energy. His eyes sought out the Slytherins and he found Faith missing. She had been missing for the past few days, choosing to dine with Buffy and the rest of the Sunnydale gang. Harry actually had fun hanging out with the Sunnydale gang, too. But part of his motivation was that Faith was there. And, for some crazy reason, he wanted to spend hours with her.

Buffy woke up when she heard the bells chime, pushing the covers aside. She didn't choose her usual jeans and blouse ensemble but instead picked something in the leather oeuvre. Her skin was humming with vibrating energy. For the past few days, she knew it was coming. Now it was time to carry her plan through, to see if everything they had spent their lives learning would come down to this very day.

As she strolled through the halls, she quickly gave the password at a large portrait of a gang of three older men playing cards. They happily let her in, only to find Willow reading from a spell book and Tara gathering ingredients into a small wicker basket. Wesley was talking with Faith, who had joined them from Slytherin. When Faith saw Buffy, the two women acknowledged one another in their mutual leather outfits.

It wasn't until midday when Buffy finally got her warning. There was a flash of color and a single feather. Drawing herself to her full height, she glanced around the room at her friends. "Time to go," she said, offering them all a hesitant smile.

Classes were called off for the rest of the day. Students were sent to their Common Room with the exception of forty students to remain behind. Hermione took a deep, shaky breath as she smiled at her friends before joining the smaller group from Sunnydale assembling in the Entrance Hall. The two vampires were not present; Hermione figured they took one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade. Buffy then turned towards Harry, who had stopped behind her.

"So," she said, spreading her arms wide.

"So."

"I guess this is it."

"I guess so," Harry surmised.

"Harry…"

"Don't," he said, stepping towards her and wrapping his sister in his arms. "Don't say anything… because anything you say will sound like a goodbye."

Buffy chuckled into his shoulder as she released him, pressing a hand to his cheek. "Stay safe, bro."

"You, too."

Buffy stepped away and hugged Hermione and the two exchanged words, Hermione looking more and more nervous. Harry felt his heart pitter painfully in his chest before he turned away. Professor Dumbledore stood next to them, his fingers tented together curiously. He was going to accompany Buffy to Hogsmeade in order to have words with his brother, Aberforth. Harry and his Headmaster exchanged a respectful nod before the Professor made his way into the Entrance Hall. He saw the rest of the Order standing tall behind him.

"Spread out in here and in the classrooms on the main floor," Hermione suggested, coming to her senses. "Make sure you're well-protected. Use tables or desks if you can in order to shield yourselves better. And don't forget to pick up a shield vest and shield cap from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

Harry saw Faith motioning for him from by the door. He made his way over to her. Faith beamed at him, slipping her arm through his as she started dragging him up the main staircase.

Buffy and Professor Dumbledore strolled to Hogsmeade, followed partially by Willow and Tara. A few moments later, the two witches broke off, staring at a spot near the barrier where they could complete their spell work. Buffy pleaded with them to remain safe. They then continued on.

Hogsmeade had been abandoned for the most part as it was a vulnerable spot. Buffy glanced at the number of people who had arrived, including two men who were dragging a large trunk into the square.

"It's about time!" a loud voice piped in as a tall brunette slipped from the shadows and came forward, her arms spread out. "We've been waiting for you for hours lazy loo."

"Good to see you, too, Cordy."

"Do you really think I'd let Xander come on his own?" Cordelia asked, tossing her hair back. "Please. Angel sent everyone from Los Angeles so I figured I'd be in a place to come, too."

"I'm glad you're here. Really. Stake?" Buffy had cracked open her trunk and was pulling out weapons. Cordelia took the proffered wood and slipped in the back of her pants.

"You look good, all leathery. It's a good look for you, like a bad girl dying to get out."

"Gee, thanks," Buffy replied, getting to her feet and taking a good look at her lines. She started putting weapons in obvious places, like on top of a group of crates or hanging them from the wire that was suspended from the stores across the alley from one another. She lined up a group of holy water inside Honeydukes as well as the small store that sold pet goods across the way. She spied Dumbledore talking with his brother down the street as she turned to the group of people standing behind her that included Sirius, Remus and, to her horror, Tonks.

"What is she doing here?"

"You need my help," Tonks said through gritted teeth. "Whether you care to admit it or not."

"I do. Need you, I mean," Buffy replied quickly. "It's just that… yeah."

"Where should we go?" Sirius asked.

"Well, we need to cover these areas," Buffy replied, taking Sirius to the Marauder's Map.

"Blimey," Sirius murmured, realizing what it was. "Would you take a look at this, Rem?"

"I see it," Remus said fondly, patting Buffy on the arm. "It was quite the surprise for you to bring it to us."

"I just use it for the secret passages," Buffy said sharply, turning to both of the men with a fond smile. "And my dad would be touched that you remember this."

After getting people to the entrances with weapons, she was surprised by the arrival of a group of Apparating former students. She blinked as Fred and George Weasley led a small group forward. "Good afternoon, Teeny Tiny!" Fred said, hugging Buffy tightly as George dragged a crate forward. He reached up, grasping one of the axes hanging off the eaves of one of the shops in order to break it open. "I bring supplies… and a plan."

"I like the sound of that," Buffy replied, moving forward with him. She smiled at the others who included Cho Chang. She quickly delegated out until only a few remained in the circle.

It was then that a shadow passed over the town. Buffy spun around, covering her eyes as she saw the moon slipping in front of the sun. "It's time," she whispered, turning to the others. It was then she noticed that Dumbledore had never returned after speaking with his brother. "Where did he go?" she asked, turning to the others and receiving only shrugs in return.

x-o-x

It had been in his plans the entire time. As he strolled away from the village, he hummed under his breath, his eyes on the tops of the trees as they swayed in time with the wind. He remembered a conversation the night before with Minerva, telling her that the young died so the old could get older. He wasn't about to let that happen. Not again.

Fawkes had been sent out to hunt for the first sign of dark creatures. Vampires had been moving into the mountains by the dozens. The centaurs had scattered in face of the Forbidden Forest that seemed to roar. Smaller, goblin-like creatures bearing deadly crossbows had been seen skulking around the rocks on the other side of the lake. These were signs that one would not take amiably.

At last, he stopped on the edge of the border. He could feel the power of the witches' spell working its magic on a barrier he had single-handedly helped strengthen years before.

And now, it was his blood that would finish the charm. He may not be able to keep out every dark creature, but it would block those with magical roots deeper than evil itself.

He glanced up when he saw a pair of perfectly-polished black boots in front of him. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he appraised the tall, stunning figure before him. Large creatures flapped in the background as he felt the chill of a shadow overcoming the sun cross his face.

"At last," a voice hissed. "At last your time has come to an end, Dumbledore."

"Not so, Tom," Dumbledore said pleasantly, folding his hands before him. "This school will never truly be dead as long as those that remain are loyal."

"To you?" the voice hissed. "No longer!"

"You may be surprised," Dumbledore replied sagely. "You might as well do what you came to do."

Voldemort's crimson eyes gleamed with pleasure as long, pale fingers grasped a wand and drew it out, pointing it on the old man's chest. "I have waited a long time for this."

Dumbledore closed his eyes peacefully.

"_Avada Kadavra!_"

x-o-o-x

_To be continued…_

x-o-o-x

Author's Note: Hi! So, after a close call with a forest fire, leaving my old job, starting my new job, going through another round of treatments, getting through the first few weeks at my new job, getting through the past few days, stressing over family being in Iraq… yes, valid reasons why this chapter took a month to write. Also, the end of this story has so much going into it that it's hard to write without getting tired. But, I'm happy to say there are only three full chapters left!


	21. On Sunday They Will Kill the World

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 21**

**On Sunday They Will Kill the World**

x-o-o-x

"A sobering thought: what if, at this very moment, I am living up to my full potential?"

- Jane Wagner

x-o-o-x

"I can't imagine what you must think of me right now."

Buffy looked up to see Giles standing over her shoulder, offering her a hand. She took it as he pulled her back to her feet. "If you think I think anything less of you, you'd be wrong."

"Buffy—"

"Look, I know you blame yourself for saving my life and for bringing me back. You shouldn't."

"Buffy—"

"You shouldn't," Buffy said, an edge in her voice. Spying Wesley by the end of the tunnel watching Angel and Spike sucker punch one another, she knew the time to vacate the premises had come. "Why don't we talk about this later? There's so much to say, but there isn't time."

Giles nodded slowly, giving her a brief flicker of a smile. "Later it is, then."

Buffy gave him a smile of her own before she turned to leave. It was his voice that held her back for a moment. "Good luck," he called after her.

She gave a half-glance over her shoulder as she replied in return, "To you, too."

x-o-x

In the hour leading up to the eclipse, Hogwarts was a flurry of activity. Students were rushed to their Common Rooms and locked within, with student guards (usually Prefects) posted outside the doors with multiple-level passwords set to prevent students from escaping. The one true concern was Slytherin as its Prefects included known children of Death Eaters. With that in mind, the Slytherins verbally protested the placement of the Seventh year Ravenclaw Prefects in the dungeons for the Slytherins' own protection. Professor Snape vehemently opposed along with his House, but Professor McGonagall was firm, convincing Snape that these were Dumbledore's wishes.

Hermione moved in and out of old classrooms, taking note of where people were huddled. She found Ron, Ginny, Seamus, Dean and Neville in the Great Hall with a few Hufflepuff Seventh Years. She found younger students patrolling the area around the library and near the staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. She found her way back to the Great Hall. The long tables where students usually ate had been turned on their sides, forming a rather half-circle protecting the staff table. The room itself was dark as fewer candles hovered overhead. The enchanted ceiling itself was swirling with dark colors and a single golden bauble near the center, signaling the arrival of the eclipse.

She barred the door behind her, using a quick nonverbal spell and a twirl of her wand to ensure that it would hold. There were more than a dozen students inside there.

But the door that needed to hold was the front entrance doors. She met Professor McGonagall at the head. She had her wand out and already the multiple locks were clicking into place. Hermione held her breath until the last lock moved into place before turning to her head of house. "They're ready."

Professor McGonagall gave a brief nod and a thin smile as she turned away from the door. "So it seems we all are."

Hermione let out a breath and grimaced. Was she ready? Part of her knew that she could come up with the perfect shield spell to counteract whatever the Death Eaters threw at her, the perfect charm for fire if the Inferi charged her… but was she ready?

"I think I know how it feels," Hermione said softly, drawing her Professor's attention. "To be a Slayer, I mean. I know what I have to do, but am I ready to do it?"

Professor McGonagall fixed her gaze on the younger Gryffindor. "During my first war, I found myself asking the same question. What if, at that very moment, I was living up to my full potential? What if, at that very moment, it defines me as who I am and what I am to be?" Hermione had never heard Professor McGonagall be so philosophical before. It was quite startling. "Of course, I never compared the situation to a Slayer's."

"Does it not seem ironic to you that in our greatest hour of need, we have both living Slayers at our call?" Hermione asked lightly.

"That remains to be seen." Professor McGonagall's voice was grim.

Hermione lowered her wand in surprise. "Are you saying that you believe that you don't believe they'll help?"

"Buffy, I believe, is one that will remain true to her word. Faith, on the other hand…"

Hermione knew it was time to put her differences with the younger Slayer aside. She just wished she had done so sooner. "Faith is a good person. She'll do the right thing."

"High praise from you, Miss Granger."

"I believe in being big about things," Hermione said, a half-smile lighting up her face. "And, besides, I'm stronger than she is at magic, anyway."

Professor McGonagall couldn't resist a smile at that. Faith had struggled all year in her class. "Nevertheless…"

Hermione was going to give Faith the benefit of the doubt. She was, after all, tasked with Harry's life. "Nevertheless, we won't have time to worry about her, right?"

The older woman shook her head, suddenly transfixed by a burst of light from one of the windows near the door. Her eyes seemed to harden as she came to a grim realization, her posture tightening until she stood ram-rod straight and turned to face the younger Gryffindor. There was a burst of popping noises outside and a shimmer glow before the door that caused Hermione to gasp.

Professor McGonagall put a reassuring hand on Hermione's arm as she drew closer to the younger girl, retrieving her wand. "And so… it begins."

x-o-x

Buffy stepped out from the Honeydukes' cellar, pushing the door open with the side of her foot. Cordelia was waiting for her on the other side, looking at the brightly-colored sweets with a hint of longing in her eyes.

"Hungry?" Buffy offered, smirking.

"I've never seen so much chocolate that wasn't held behind armed guards," Cordelia marveled, shaking her head. Coming back to her senses, she added, "How are things down below?"

"Shaky," Buffy admitted as they walked out of the sweets shop. "Angel and Spike are bickering like little old ladies and Wes just keeps bitching at them. They need some estrogen down there."

"Oh, really?" Cordelia asked as Buffy quickly found the person she was searching for and marched up to her. "Well, I'm not volunteering."

"Not asking you to," Buffy replied as she briskly tapped a single figure on the shoulder. Tonks turned, her eyes glistening in the light.

"Can I help you?"

"I could use you down below," Buffy offered. "I've got two vampires, two Watchers, a few Order members who decided to stay below ground and nothing with any sense. Could you…?"

"You want me to fight below ground?" Tonks asked. Remus and Sirius, who were both nearby, turned to the conversation.

"Yes."

"Are you hoping that I'll die down there?" Tonks asked lightly.

"I'm just hoping that you don't disappoint," Buffy replied, just as lightly. "If I remember correctly, Arthur Weasley had nothing but great things to say about you during the attack on the Ministry."

Tonks inclined her head. "Then I will do my best." She turned and, exchanging a look with the two men, made to move towards Honeydukes. Remus, unable to stand it, quickly moved to stop her.

"You do not have to do this," Remus said, taking her by the arm and turning her to face him. He was astonished to see the determination on her face.

"No, but I choose to," Tonks said quietly, pressing a cool hand to Remus' face. "I'll be seeing you." Slipping from his grasp, she escaped inside the sweet shop and out of sight. Remus turned desperately to Buffy who was drawing a line through the dirt with the toe of her boot. Others behind him were donning the shielding equipment the Weasley twins had dropped off before moving to the next point in town. The village itself was deserted and had been since Buffy's plan had been made. Obviously no one was taking the chance she was wrong about where Voldemort would strike.

A sliver of darkness covered the ground. Remus turned and saw that part of the moon was obscuring the sun. "Buffy!"

The Slayer turned and met him in the middle of the square. It was then he noticed the weapons that had been placed around the square. Two small axes hung from the wire suspended over their heads between two buildings. A sword and a group of stakes were casually stacked on top of a set of crates. Another sword was leaning up against the Honeydukes display window. What looked like a club with spikes was just barely visible from a barrel across the narrow path.

Buffy positioned the few she had behind most of the hiding places she could see. If vampires were the first to come, she would have to deal with them. Well, she and her heroine support as Cordelia hadn't left her side since she'd arrived hours before.

"How's Giles? Did Giles sound okay?"

Buffy ground at the dirt with the tip of her boot. "Yeah."

"Are you two not talking again?"

Buffy snorted under her breath. "No, we're talking… and I guess when this is all over, we'll talk more. It's just… so much has happened in the past few months. Like with Harry, I don't know where to start."

"Then let's make sure you both get your chance."

It was then that a shadow passed over the town. Buffy spun around, covering her eyes as she saw the moon slipping in front of the sun. "It's time," she whispered, turning to the others. It was then she noticed that Dumbledore had never returned after speaking with his brother. "Where did he go?" she asked, turning to the others and receiving only shrugs in return.

It was at that moment she felt a ripple of energy surge through the square with enough force to lift her hair off her shoulders. The axes swung, creaking, on the wire suspended above her head. The dirt under their feet began to stir, swirling around them. If this wasn't an omen, she didn't know what was.

"Buffy?"

The Slayer could only offer her friend a soft smile as she lifted a sword. Cordelia removed a sword of her own. "You don't have to be so close," Buffy said.

"If you think I'm going to let you fight alone and miss out on the fun, you're insane," Cordelia replied happily. "Besides, I'm exactly where I need to be."

As the village was thrown into darkness, Buffy's eyes sought out movement in the trees on the outskirts of town. By the time one of the vile creatures leapt into the path, she was more than ready for it. It was dust before it had a chance to speak, but when it disappeared, ten more were able to take its place.

Buffy waited until there were enough of them to fill the village square before she came out and shouted, "Now!"

x-o-x

Faith and Harry were on the fourth level and moving towards the fifth when she felt something powerful move through her. Her eyes caught a glow hanging between her breasts. She stopped moving, her fingers touching the amulet, which felt oddly warm to her touch. Harry, who had been rushing along, stopped when he didn't hear the sounds of her boots following behind him. "What is it?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Faith murmured, setting the amulet back in its place. "But I think that whatever needed to be done to activate this thing has been done… its active now."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, reaching for the amulet himself. Before he could fully grasp it, her hand grabbed his and held it fiercely.

"I… I'm not good with these things. I never was…"

He cut her off by kissing her. She felt the nervous energy respond positively to his embrace but tore herself away from it before she tore him to pieces. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, "I know."

"But…"

"Shh." He placed his finger over her lips. "I know."

Faith gave up trying to explain and let him hold her for a moment. He heard the sounds of banging and scraping in the distance and it set his determination all the more. He pulled himself away from her, taking her hand. "Are you ready?"

"Wait." Before he could stop her, he felt her hands around his head and neck before a weight settled on his chest. He glanced down and saw the amulet nestled under his school robes. Before he could question her, she said, "It belongs to you now. I don't know how and I don't know why I know, but it's yours. It's… all I can give you to protect you."

He felt tears prickle behind his eyes as they met hers. A moment later, they heard the sound of a loud explosion and they continued moving through the castle.

x-o-x

With a snap, Buffy drove her sword through the neck of a vampire, watching with satisfaction as its head tumbled off and turned to dust. Lifting her sword, she threw herself into another battle, circled by vampires. The first sprang first. Buffy kicked the vampire aside and drew her stake, flipping it idly in her hands before driving it into the vampire's heart. The others jumped in and Buffy found herself fighting like she fought in the good old days. She would punch one vampire and kick another aside, staking when she could and driving others off using her sword. To her left, she saw Cordelia dart forward and drive a stake into a vampire's heart and watch as it turned to dust.

Once the square was clear, though dustier, both women quickly rearmed and made towards the line.

"If they cross this line, we retreat through there," Buffy said under her breath, pointing to Honeydukes behind them.

"Right."

Before they could really plan anything else out, the path in front of them swelled with vampires again. Both women exchanged a look as these vampires flooded into Hogsmeade. Two women against twenty had been bad enough odds, though feasible. Two against two hundred? That was more questionable.

And yet they swarmed into the village.

"Now what?" Cordelia shouted over the horrible grunting sounds the vampires were making.

"Kill them," Buffy replied, as though it were the most obvious thing.

Buffy took her stance against the masses. It soon became obvious that she wasn't going to win out on all of them. Even Cordelia, with her Sunnydale and Los Angeles demon background, backed away, terrified.

"Okay, I get it," Buffy panted as she cast her sword to the ground and looked up. "We're just going to have to do it our way, boys. No offense… I'm sure you're all bloodthirsty monsters." As they started to circle around the two women, Cordelia backed uncertainly towards her.

Buffy waited until they were close enough to kill before she leapt up, grabbing the wire and pulling it down. The wire was not strong enough to support her weight, but as it drooped the two battle axes were able to slide into her waiting hands. She dropped back down into the fray, flipped the battle axes to the ready and then attacked. With two swift strokes, the entire circle of vampires was dust. She quickly ran to the next group, sparring and defending. It was easier that these vampires weren't armed.

She kicked at one vampire and waited until he was down before planting the sharp, wooden end of her axe into its sternum and watching it explode into grey powder. She spun around, slicing out with the opposite axe to another vampire and relieving it of its head. She then felt their cold hands grabbing at her and jammed her body backwards, thrusting both axes behind her and swinging down. Hearing the groans of agony from the figures behind her, she knew she'd hit her mark. She pulled back and drew forward, leaping up and flipping backwards over the next swarm of vampires before she reached out with both hands, catching the axes that she had thrown out before her jump. With a ferocious cry, she threw herself into the battle. She kicked and punched her way through a group of vampires before turning on them with her weapons. Smiling coldly, she struck out, slicing around the height of their necks, watching as their heads tumbled off one by one.

As she spun to face the next mass, her eyes widened at the large number still streaming down the path. They had gone from hundreds into thousands. This was simply a number one Slayer should not have to sacrifice herself for. Slowly, uncertainly, she lifted her axe, preparing for the end…

"Buffy!"

Buffy gasped and whirled around, quickly knocking two vampires off and dusting a third. She spied Cordelia on the ground with a large, undead arm locked around her neck, fanged mouth lowering towards her neck.

"No!" Buffy cried out, fighting her way back. But every last vampire between her and Cordelia seemed to die ridiculously slow… she kicked aside another before she felt them grab her from behind… the distance between her and her friend increasing…

"_Incendio_"

Buffy gasped as a sudden shot of flame burst from behind one of the crates and into the back of the vampire currently attacking her friend. The vampire let go of the brunette and recoiled, screaming in agony before he succumbed to the flames. One by one, those she had hidden revealed themselves, pulling out their wands. There was a flash of fire and the entire front line was reduced to nothing more than powder. Buffy threw herself to the ground, rolling out of harm's way as she reached Cordelia, who was leaning against an old shop and massaging her bruised throat.

"I thought I was dead," Cordelia rasped, turning to Buffy with an exhausted look.

"So did I," Buffy admitted. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Cordelia said, offering her a tremulous smile. "You've got bigger things to do than look after me."

Buffy turned back to the one that had saved Cordelia's life – Sirius. His eyes met hers and he gave a brief nod before turning back and lifting his wand again. Before Buffy could lift herself off the ground, she felt Cordelia's cool hand grasp hers.

"Go… be a hero," Cordelia whispered. "Good luck, Buff."

Buffy gave her a bright smile before she stood up and jumped back into battle, kicking both axes aside and pulling a crossbow from on top of one of the crates. "Get down!" she screamed out. Two figures that had been fighting hand-to-hand quickly dropped to the ground as Buffy fired two quick bursts, watching as the vampires all but exploded.

Darkness lingered on as Buffy drew those in the square to the line before pulling her wand from inside her boot and holding it out in the standard dueling method. She was flanked on either side by her father's dearest friends and, for a moment, she reflected on how grateful she was that she was her father's daughter. As they faced hundreds of vampires cramming themselves into the bottleneck, seven witches and wizards stood at their line with wands out, preparing to make their last stand.

In the distance, Buffy's Slayer-trained eyesight could see enormous forms stumping along. To her horror, she realized that the giants had also come.

"Now," Buffy said. Seven bursts of flame came from the wands as all repeated the line Sirius had used. But it was too little. Only seven vampires felt the effects as they exploded and the vampires quickly pushed their fiery comrades aside to assault those standing between them and the school.

What they needed wasn't something a Slayer could give them. She had already taken down dozens of the creatures.

"Oi, you lot!"

Buffy blinked as she stared at the top of one of the shops. Stooped against the sloped edge was a redheaded, freckled someone.

"What the hell…?" Buffy muttered under her breath, hearing the same sentiment repeated with various vulgarities from those around her.

"That there is a seasoned, experienced vampire Slayer. To taste her blood would bring you immortality!"

Buffy swung her head to look at the figure on the opposite side of the path.

"What are they doing?" Remus asked in a dazed voice. "Oh, bugger, they have lost their minds!"

"All we can hope is that they…" Her voice trailed off as she saw that they had picked up speed, coming towards them like a swarm of beetles. "Don't see us," she finished lamely.

The group of seven backed away. Even Cordelia struggled to her feet, her hand against her side as she moved with them, her opposite hand clutching her sword.

"You must tell us," one of the Weasley twins said, leaning against a flagpole on top of his respective building, "who does your dental work. Really, a top notch job!"

Buffy suppressed a groan as she backed into the stack of crates. Suddenly, she froze, turning slowly back to the crates. Since when had Hogsmeade ever had a random stack of crates or some well-placed barrels or anything in its streets, really?

"Get back!" Buffy murmured under her breath, before she turned to the others. "Get away from the street! Go!"

The vampires looked amazed as eight people lifted weapons and ran in eight different places.

"You're not going to coward out on us now, are you?" the second twin asked with a tsk-tsk in his tone. "She's standing right there."

The vampires craned their necks to the single figure standing in front of the crates, wiggling her fingers. "Oh, yeah," she snarled, keeping her eyes on her prey. "Come and get me. I'm so lost, so innocent… so pure… so… bloody."

With vicious snarls, the vampires pressed their attack. She waited for one of the twins to signal her before she nearly cart-wheeled out of harm's way. The vampires watched her escape before turning back to the crates. One of the twins gave a quiet smile as he tapped his wand to a tiny black panel in front of him. The crates burst open, large pillars suddenly growing out of them. Large mirrors suddenly expanded from the top, shining little light down on the square now swarming with vampires. There were some who crowded into the shops, bursting down doors and shattering windows. The crates then crumbled as the second twin tapped his wand on his panel. Another large pillar rose, but this one didn't have a mirror.

The first twin, after seeing the pillar rise, quickly drew out his own bow and slid an arrow with a vivid purple point into the string. As he fired over the heads of the vampires, one reached out and snatched the bolt from midair, turning back to him.

"You lose, mortal!"

"And that is why there are two of us, you fools," the first twin said cheerfully as his twin fired a second bolt that hit the top of the pillar with a soft _ping_. The top suddenly exploded into violent ultraviolet light. Once it hit the small mirrors built onto the base, it expanded out to the mirrors that suddenly appeared over most of the square. The vampires followed the light. Some started to back out of the square where they were met by eight heavily armed patrons, including the Slayer.

It was a sight the world had never seen. As Hogsmeade exploded into light, hundreds of vampires quailed under the brilliance and burst into dust, turning the darkness into mist. Those that remained hid in what few corners remained, only to have the Slayer or her friends chase them down. After staking one vampire, Buffy glanced up at the twins across the square standing on the same building. She bit back a giggle as they both bowed to her, sweeping off their hats as they bent. "Thank you," she mouthed to them as the light started to fade.

Though more vampires were inbound, they realized their error of charging into Hogsmeade after hearing the violent, piteous screams of their kind as they were slaughtered. They turned about, preparing to come to another one of the entrances into the village, the image of their destination burned into the minds as well as charred onto their arms.

Outside of Hogsmeade, Lord Voldemort used the edge of his foot to flip the old man onto his face before he turned away from the dome of protection that now rested over Hogwarts. Hogsmeade had been vulnerable. He knew that Dumbledore would never have left Hogsmeade undefended. His intention had been to set his vampire army loose in order to destroy what little resistance was set against him. He should have known that one of the Slayers would have been personally involved. His first thought was to activate the Slayers and turn them to his cause, but that time had not yet come.

There was more than one way to get into Hogwarts. Hogsmeade was one. But there was the lake as well as the tunnels…

He motioned for his Death Eaters to come forward, giving them specific instructions. Others had already gone off on their own errands, but the ones that remained seemed to be waiting for something to break. There was a renewed energy barrier blocking a direct attack into Hogwarts. The stupid Slayer and her band of resistance had taken over Hogsmeade. He had sent vast undead resources to repel them, but it seemed the Slayer wasn't backing down.

He was going to wait until the opportunity presented itself. And then, when it had, he was going to strike. Dumbledore was dead and soon the world of Hogwarts would be along with him.

A faint smile creased his pale face. That, he thought, was worth everything leading up to his final moment of triumph – the death of his arch-nemesis, Harry Potter.

x-o-x

Arthur Weasley mopped his brow off as his son slid to a crouch next to him. "How goes, father?"

"It's been hard," Arthur admitted, slightly out of breath. "We've managed to evade them for now."

Charlie Weasley had been called back from Romania for just this purpose, it seemed. He had been boxed up near the old Shrieking Shack with his father, a few other members of the Order, a couple Aurors including Kingsley Shacklebolt and, of all creatures, Hagrid. "Isn't this the only tunnel left that reaches Hogwarts? Haven't the others collapsed?"

"Yes," his father replied, getting back to his feet and pulling out his wand. "But that doesn't mean that they can't access them."

Charlie, along with others in their group, had been against having so few up against what they would be facing. Though they had a few dozen vampires, it was nothing compared to the sound coming from Hogsmeade. They had seen a brilliant flash of light just moments before from that part of town along with a whole load of shouting.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to just collapse all of the tunnels?" Charlie asked as they slipped out from the alley and under the fencing that led to the Shrieking Shack. "It may be safest."

"The other tunnels were already collapsed again as it is," Arthur replied as they joined the others. "What news have you?"

"Vampires have completely overrun two checkpoints," Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his deep, baritone voice. "There are nothing but bodies between us and them."

"How many did we lose?" Arthur asked, horrified.

"We found three that had just been killed… the others…"

"Turned?" Charlie asked reluctantly. He knew enough about vampires to know that they could turn someone by draining their blood. Never mind the fact that his family had actually housed a vampire Slayer two summers before and he had never been invited to meet her.

Kingsley nodded slowly. "The worst may be yet to come. Hagrid has been called over to Honeydukes. There have been giants sighted."

"What about us?"

"We are to hold this line. They believe that something will still attack us here. This tunnel does lead to the Whomping Willow which is the closest to Hogwarts they'll have been able to reach yet."

"Very well," Arthur said, his light eyes scanning the seven people surrounding him, including his son. He felt a pang, knowing the last time his son had gone into battle, he hadn't returned alive. "But we should have a backup plan in case this one doesn't work."

"We should collapse the shack," Charlie volunteered. "It shouldn't be too hard. The entire thing is unstable as it is."

"Then we should get to work," Kingsley said. "The other groups are holding off the vampires for now, but not even the Slayer can hold them off forever. Their numbers are just too great."

But that wasn't the top concern on their minds and they knew it. The Inferi were five times deadlier than any vampire and they could take the sun. Already a sliver of light was falling across the valley again, shining on the dirt-streaked windows of the Shrieking Shack. The eclipse was passing and soon the vampire threat would pass along with it.

x-o-x

"Again!"

Buffy watched as a sword took a beautiful arc through the air before she seized it, driving it through the neck of a ducking vampire. On the second swipe through, she removed its head.

"Sword!"

Buffy threw the sword to Sirius who used both swords to scissor-cut the head of the vampire that had been attacking one of the other Order members who lay still on the ground and likely would never move again. The sword was thrown back and forth as the group continued to bottleneck the vampires. The sun was slicing out from behind the moon again, filling the town with light. The UV lightshow was done and both Fred and George had disappeared again. Buffy hoped that if they all survived she would be able to give them proper thanks. It had been a brilliant plan.

After calling for it, she took the sword back and used the hilt to knock one vampire aside before she staked a second. When the first recovered enough to attack her, she drove the stake through its heart and watched as the dust cleared. She spun around, trying to see if there were any others. There weren't.

"Did we do it?" Cordelia asked, limping into the square and looking around like some lost disaster victim. Buffy could tell the others shared her same sentiment though and held her silence, looking grimly around the dark scene.

"Maybe," she offered, feeling the warmth of the sun on her back. "Now if they want to get to the school, they have to go through the tunnels."

"Yeah, about that…" Remus said, stepping forward. He shared with her information learned that two of her seven areas had been obliterated and that three of these areas had bound together to defeat the vampires. Since they had seen another flash of light to the north just minutes ago, she knew that Fred and George had made their presence known elsewhere. The vampires probably hated those twins as much as they hated the Slayer.

"Right," Buffy said, gripping her sword as she crossed back into the square. She waved the others forward except for the one that had fallen, the one that Buffy hadn't even taken the time to learn the name of.

"Alright… we've survived the eclipse. That's a great thing. But now we need to hold the town as long as the shield over Hogwarts stands. Nothing can cross between us and the school, got it?"

"Yeah," Cordelia said, shaking her head. "But what do we do about them?"

Buffy heard the distant sounds of giants approaching the town. She turned wordlessly to Remus, who said, "I've taken care of it. Our own giants shall be here shortly."

"If all else fails, we collapse the tunnel below Hogsmeade," Buffy said, turning to the others. "I take it that that isn't too much to ask."

"If it must be done," Sirius agreed.

"I think we should rig it in case the event needs to be done," Buffy said, striding towards the school. "I think that—" At seeing the sudden look of horror cross Sirius's face, she said, "What?"

"Behind you!" a voice screamed out.

Before Buffy could turn around and defend herself, something large and metallic kissed her chest. The force of the swing lifted her from the ground, throwing her through the front window of Honeydukes, along the shiny wooden counter and on top of a table, cracking it in two. The Slayer rolled from the table and to the ground under a rainstorm of glass and debris and moved no more.

x-o-x

"Well, we've been waiting down here right long enough," Spike grunted, staring hard at the dirt-packed wall of the tunnel and crossing his arms. They had heard sounds of screams and footsteps. More recently, they heard a loud thudding noise and then silence. "If something's gonna break through, let it come already. I'm getting bored."

"You are not the only one," Tonks told the vampire briskly. She threw Wesley a dirty look as though to blame him for her being stuck down here with two feuding vampires, one which was obviously concerned for the Slayer.

"We'll fight when we're needed," Angel said simply. "That eclipse couldn't have lasted more than ten, twelve minutes."

"Try eighteen," Wesley said, pointedly ignoring the dark looks Tonks kept throwing his way. "I've read up on my astronomy lessons, something that even those who consider themselves smarter than the rest of us should have done."

"I don't think I'm smarter than you," Tonks shot back, storming towards Wesley. A combination of the cold tunnel, the apprehension of finally facing their worst fears and the sounds of battle from above had set her on edge. She prodded her finger into his chest angrily as he glared down at her, batting her hand away.

"Those of us who think they are smarter than the rest of us would obviously say that," Wesley retorted. "They defend themselves even in the weakest of circumstances."

"Weakest of?" Tonks gasped. "Oh, you—"

"Come now, children," Giles sighed, pressing a hand to his head.

"Yes, children," Xander smirked, enjoying the fact that Giles was yelling at Tonks and Wesley and not at him, though he was considered the youngest of the group.

"I didn't start it," Wesley mumbled weakly.

"You think I did?" Tonks shouted back.

"You betrayed my Slayers!" Wesley yelled.

"I didn't! I told you that there were some in the Ministry who did, but it wasn't me!"

"You could have done something, anything to protect them!"

"Why?" Tonks shouted. "Why is it so important that I'm on your side?"

Giles tuned out the conversation between the angry purple-haired woman and the impertinent Watcher and stared at the wall. His eyes narrowed as he saw the faintest bit of dirt fall to the ground. This wasn't coming from above. This was coming from the side.

"What did you want me to do?" Tonks screamed.

"Perhaps own up to the fact that you believe that everything I work for is for evil!"

"A Watcher turned evil!"

"So did several of the Ministry's employees! But you don't see me blaming them for our troubles here now, do you?"

Xander noticed that Giles had his hand on the wall. Frowning slightly, he shimmied over to the Watcher and mimicked Giles' movements. His eyes widened when he felt the slight bounce of the earth behind his fingertips. Something… or someone… was moving towards them.

"Why? Why do you care?" Tonks asked, sounding near tears.

"Because, as far as I'm concerned, you and the werewolf deserve each other!"

"This is worse than you and Buffy," Spike muttered to Angel, who smirked in agreement.

"Giles," Xander said slowly, pulling his hand back from the wall. Giles did the same and, coming to a decision, moved towards Tonks who was leaning against the same wall.

"Do you really believe that?" Tonks asked flatly. "You think Remus and I should be—"

"Obviously I do or I would never have mentioned it," Wesley said coldly, turning his shoulder to her.

"Wesley, I don't want Remus."

Wesley refused to listen to her.

The sound of the earth moving was getting louder.

"I haven't wanted him since I met you."

Her words were greeted by the sudden movement of the other Watcher behind her. "What the hell?" Tonks gasped as Giles grabbed her by the arms and propelled her towards Wesley.

"Get away from the walls!" Giles shouted out. "They're creating their own tunnels! They—" His words were suddenly cut off into a vacant choke as a spray of crimson splashed across the tunnel as a ghastly hand protruded from his chest, wielding a still-beating heart. Tonks screamed and backed towards Wesley, who took her by the arm and attempted to push her behind him. The hand with the heart retracted and Giles fell face-first to the ground.

All along the walls, the dirt burst forth. Xander yelped and backed towards Wesley and Tonks, who lifted a trembling hand, her eyes staring at the same foes that brought her and Wesley together in the first place. "Oh, no… no, no, no… not this again!"

"Be strong, Nymphadora," Wesley murmured into her ear as he cowered against the opposite wall. Her cry had luckily alerted the other Aurors in their tunnel to the arrival of the Inferi. "You must be strong."

Tonks could only think of one thing and that was survival. As the Inferi moved from their tunnels into the open, crowding around the five, including the two vampires, Tonks took a deep breath and uttered the curse, watching as the tunnel surrounding them burst into flame.

x-o-x

"Professor McGonagall! Professor McGonagall!"

Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress turned from where she stood at the front door with Hermione Granger to face a young Ravenclaw Prefect of the Sixth Year. "What is it?" she asked hurriedly. She had never seen one of the Ravenclaws look so nonplussed before.

"Ma'am, the Slytherins… the Ravenclaw Prefects are knocked unconscious… they may be dead!"

"Bloody hell."

Both Professor McGonagall and the Ravenclaw Sixth year turned to face Hermione, who had uttered Ron Weasley's famous words.

"We must find them," Professor McGonagall said, for the first time a thread of fear in her voice. "You best be off to your Common Room." The Prefect nodded and ran off. "I trust I can leave the defense of this room to the Head Girl?"

"Yes," Hermione said, a bit breathlessly.

Professor McGonagall gave a firm nod and sent a willowy cat down towards the dungeons with a flick of her wand. She then ran towards the dungeons, having summoned Professor Snape to meet her at the Slytherin's Common Room.

The Head of the Slytherin house was in his office. His eyes flippantly took in the sight of a fading cat before he turned his dulcet expression back to the circle of Slytherins surrounding him. He hadn't been surprised when more than a dozen of his favorite students had stormed into his office. Currently one of them held a wand to his temple as though daring him to make an unsuspecting move. Draco sat perched on the table he had spent the past seven years at, twirling Snape's wand idly in his hand. "You do realize you will be expelled for this," he said in his low, dangerous voice.

"In a few hours, Hogwarts will no longer be in a position to expel its best students," Blaise Zabini said, smothering a yawn and feigning exhaustion as he stretched his arms lazily over his head.

"We have been preparing for this moment for the past few months," a Slytherin Sixth Year confided, leaning across the table to allow Snape a rather interesting view of her plunging décolletage.

"Yes," Snape said, an edge to his voice. "I know this. Why are you holding me here against my will?"

"Because, _Professor_," Pansy Parkinson murmured, standing up from her place at Draco's side and sidestepping her fellow students, "you are a traitor. We don't sit well with traitors."

"They tend to end up dead," the Sixth Year purred. "Or, worse, in _pieces_."

For the first time, Severus Snape felt fear. Each Slytherin around him wore the same serious expression. All save Draco, who had yet to look him in the eye. He just kept twirling the wand, idly staring out what little window there was in the dungeons, a vacant expression on his face.

"This is ridiculous," Snape snapped, getting to his feet and storming away from the students. As the Sixth Year leapt from his desk, pressing her wand to the bottom of his chin, she looked up at him with teasing eyes.

"This is not ridiculous, _sir_, these were our orders. If you do not take your seat, I will be forced to incapacitate you."

Snape resisted the opportunity to laugh in her face. Her marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts were mediocre at best and the girl had no skill for hexing. However, there were others in this room that he was fearful of, namely Draco and his companions, all which had demonstrated an ability to hex like professionals when the cause was just. Sure enough, the Seventh Years crowded closer. Pansy Parkinson pushed the Sixth Year away with a sneer of disgust before turning dark eyes to the Professor.

"Sir, please, sit down. It will all be over soon."

From her spot behind Draco, Juliet Rosier was seriously questioning why she was standing here at this very moment. Draco was tapping his heels against the legs of his table, twirling Snape's wand in his hands. From the looks of it, he was trying to make up his mind about something.

"This is wrong," she murmured, loud enough for Draco to hear while the others seemed oblivious, obviously enjoying provoking Snape into doing something illegal, like strangling the girl who had the gall to wear little more than a slip.

Draco, meanwhile, was counting how many times his heart was beating every time he breathed in and out. Anything to take the edge from Snape's cutting glare as his coal-eyes searched his out. But Draco refused to meet his Professor's gaze, instead focusing his attention on the floor. When he heard the woman behind him speak, he released a breath. Her comment echoed his thoughts exactly. It was wrong. They shouldn't be there, attacking the one person who had stood up for them for seven years. What sort of ingrates were they?

"Hey!" he heard the girl behind him say. "Back off! We were supposed to keep him locked away, not torture the poor man. Clara, get off of him." Juliet scowled as the Sixth Year moved away from Snape, swinging her hips slowly.

"Who put you in charge?" Pansy asked, slipping hands onto her narrow waist as she stared down the taller girl.

"That's a good question," Juliet snapped in response. "I guess the answer is no one. But as none of you have a brain, someone has to do something before we do something we may regret." As she said this last part, her eyes slid to Draco.

_My thoughts exactly, _he thought to himself.

"She's right," Draco said aloud, jumping from the table and pushing his way to the front. "We were told to protect our house and to nullify the good Professor should he do anything heroic." Now his eyes met Snape's and he watched as the Professor nodded in understanding. "Isn't that right?" Draco slowly pushed Snape's wand until it was aimed between his eyes. "I'm sorry about this."

Even as his classmates sneered in triumph, Draco twisted the wand about in one movement, practically flinging it at the Professor. Snape caught it in one movement as Draco dove to the ground. As the other Slytherins stared stupidly at the scene unfolding before them, Snape burst to his feet and chose a nonverbal, "Stupefy!"

Twelve Slytherins hit the ground before they had a chance to mount a counter-curse. Professor Snape slowly stepped around his desk, staring down at the students he had nurtured for the past seven years. But rather than feeling betrayed by his own kind, he felt oddly saddened, as though they had somehow disappointed him.

Draco pulled himself to his feet, helping a struggling girl at his side. Snape recognized both Malfoy and Rosier as they coughed, staring around them at the unconscious Slytherins.

"They'll be awake soon," Juliet said in a low voice.

The professor nodded. "You should come with me. If they are to awaken, they will kill you both." He waited until both students were on the other side of the doorway before he sealed it with something that not even the most able-minded Granger could break. "This choice may have damned you both," he said quietly, facing both students, both of whom he felt immense pride in.

"I am not my father's daughter," Juliet said proudly, drawing herself up to her full height. "And I'm going to go help my friends." Turning on her heel, Juliet flounced off.

"And I am not my father's son," Draco said once the two were alone. "I am, however, my mother's son. I believe in doing the right thing… whatever that may be."

"Go to the Great Hall," Professor Snape murmured. "Your assistance would be greatly appreciated there. And, Draco…" He watched as his favorite student gave a half-glance back over his shoulder, "do be careful. Your mother would never forgive me if her only son were to perish." Draco gave him a fleeting smile before dashing off.

With that, Professor Snape turned about before he paused, reaching for the wall. A sudden look of understanding crossed his face and he turned towards the staircase, moving at great speed. He knew he was needed elsewhere.

x-o-x

"Do you have any more bright ideas?" Sirius shouted out to Remus as the two dove out of the way of a Giant's hammer. Grawp, bellowing at a sound most humans should never have to bear, smashed his fist in the Giant's face and the two trampled onto the old Zonko's, the building disintegrating beneath their feet. Half of the town of Hogsmeade was in pieces from the Giants alone. Only seven of them there were, four against and three for. Sirius didn't know where Hagrid had found another giant, but there was a third giant fighting for their side. Sirius had the sinking realization that the Giant now stomping across the square and smashing the already-downed giant was Grawp's female friend.

"Just stay out of the warpath!" Remus shouted back as the Aurors scattered. Half of the roof of Honeydukes had just bounced between them, colliding with the streetlamp and Owl Post. As the windows to the Owl Post smashed, they saw what few owls remained taking off into the sky, disappearing behind the sun.

There was another growl as a Giant lifted half of the Owl Post and flung it at Grawp's head. It seemed as though the Giants against them were gaining the upper hand though as both Hagrid and Grawp showed obvious signs of injury. Even Grawp's lady friend stumbled and collapsed into what remained of Gladrags. They were being pushed further away from their one last escape – the Shrieking Shack. Already they could see the building collapsing but not of the Giants' power. This seemed to be coming from within.

Underneath the debris, Buffy slowly opened her eyes as bits of plaster and dust peppered down in her face. She slowly turned her head to the left, spying the collapsed portion of the building. She moved slightly, feeling her broken ribs in her chest protest to her movement. Well, she wasn't going to give it a lot of choice. She needed to get out before—

Another section of the ceiling collapsed, gouging a hole into the floor. Before Buffy could attempt to roll away, the floor beneath her back gave way and she found herself collapsing into the cellar. She landed with a cough, sneezing as the dust filtered around her. Her entire body ached as she pushed herself up, staring at her leather top which was spotted with blood. Her neck, what little of it she could see, was black-and-blue. Had she not been a Slayer, that blow would have killed her.

There was the sound of thundering feet above. She saw more of the floor collapsing onto the debris already in the cellar. If she didn't move, she was going to be crushed to death. She spotted the hatch leading to the tunnel and crawled towards it, groaning as her body practically quivered in pain. At last she kicked the hatch open and threw herself forward. If not for the pair of arms that caught her, she likely would have planted her face in the dirt and would have been unable to break free.

As luck would have it, she had landed in Angel's arms. He slowly pulled her up, his eyes widening at her bruised face. Her arms clung weakly to him as she attempted to steady herself on her feet. "Buffy?"

"Angel?" she moaned, wincing at what little light remained above as a great crash sounded.

"What is going on up there?" Angel asked quietly.

"Giants," Buffy said, blinking as she stared at the tunnel. She was floored by the appearance of blood and bodies. "What the hell happened here?"

"Inferi," Wesley said, appearing out from the shadows, holding part of his Hogwarts robes against his face which was bleeding profusely. "They burrowed through the walls and attacked us here. It's likely they made their way into the school now."

"Did they use this tunnel?"

"No," Wesley said as Buffy all but collapsed against her former. "The magicks that Tara has called into place seem to be holding for the moment. They continued burrowing through the earth. But what ruckus above…?"

"Giants," Buffy said, stumbling into the tunnel. "There are giants. By the sound of it, a whole army full." She put a trembling hand to her head and winced. "I need to get back to the school. Where's Giles? I thought maybe he could—"

"Buffy."

It was Xander. He appeared from behind, his hand touching her shoulder. She followed the direction of his gaze and her intense expression sobered at the sight of her Watcher with a bloodied hole punched in his chest. "Oh," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," Tonks said, her face and hands showing moderate burns from her spell, not to mention a harsh limp caused by the Inferi grabbing onto her cloak and brushing her knee. "He saved my life."

"That sounds like Giles." For a moment, Buffy allowed herself to wallow but then turned and faced the others. "Get out of this tunnel. Honeydukes is about to collapse and when it does, you'll have no choice but to get back to the school. Get out of here through the top. Get to the Shrieking Shack and take the tunnel there back to the Whomping Willow. That'll lead you—"

"Straight to the castle," Tonks finished with a nod. "But what about—"

"We'll come back for them later," Buffy said, her eyes lightly tracing over the four bodies lined neatly in a row. "But I need to get to the castle."

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?" she asked, spinning around. Angel stood there as Wesley aided Tonks to what remained of the ladder, helping her into Honeydukes' cellar.

"Be careful."

"Yeah, you too."

Turning, Buffy ran forward until she encountered the energy field. Her hand pressed against it before she charged forward, breaking through. She felt the ripple effect in her body as she stumbled into the poorly-lit tunnel, but luckily for her, her Slayer-enhanced vision could see anything.

Less than ten minutes later, the statue of the one-eyed witch along the third-floor corridor was burst apart. A Slayer pulled herself out and landed in a crouch. Rising to her full height, she turned this way and that, her wand pointed out ahead of her. Making her choice, she continued on.

x-o-x

From the depths of the lake, a single figure emerged, hand reaching out and burning through a door. The figure stepped aside, allowing others to pass inside. Two Wizard guards were stationed just inside the door. They were quickly put down, their bodies cast into the lake. One by one, Death Eaters began to flood into the castle through a door accessed only on the lake side.

x-o-x

Tara sat calmly with her eyes closed, feeling the magicks overwhelm her. There was darkness everywhere. Willow sat next to her, ready to anchor her should anything—

Tara's head snapped up and her hands grasped outwards. "It's breaking," she whispered, speaking of the dark Wizards working their powers to cast down her spell. Thousands of Inferi lingered near the periphery of the school, ready to charge in and massacre at their leisure. "I can't hold them."

"Yes, you can," Willow said desperately. She had been disturbed by the sounds coming from the village. The castle was between them and the village which made it hard to see, but Willow also knew that she could lose everyone she knew that fought in that battle, including Buffy. "You have to."

"They're so strong."

Willow stared at Tara's face. She turned and looked out at the forest, her hair lifting from her shoulders in the slight breeze. She could feel the fear of those inside the castle, those waiting for their deaths to come.

She wasn't going to let that happen.

Her hand reached over, fingers sliding between Tara's. The other witch opened her eyes and turned to her. Willow held Tara's gaze as she felt the power from the earth fill her body. As their eyes closed, a single bolt of light flashed around them and spread outwards. The dark Wizards were flung back from the shield of protection and the Inferi were stalled again. Willow felt her lips move as the chant Tara spoke flowed through her, like a conduit. This was the only thing they could do to save thousands of lives inside. They had to hold this line.

x-o-x

Buffy ran into an unused classroom, stopping to close the door and lower a beam across it to prevent it from being opened. Inferi could smash through just about anything, but she wasn't going to give any of the Death Eaters a warm welcome. She turned, intending to continue to the next door before going back into the corridors when she felt the air burst through behind her. Frustrated, she spun around with her wand out, meaning to close the door with magic. But her spell was blocked by a sole figure standing in the doorway.

"You," Buffy said quietly, recognizing her foe despite the bowler hat he wore pulled down over his eyes. "I thought I killed you."

"Why, Miss Potter… how delighted I am to see you!" Quentin Travers said, stepping into the light. "Though, you look quite a fright."

"Your giants just gave me a little trouble, that's all," Buffy said, trying to reach her full height but feeling her broken ribs straining in protest. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Yes, because you are a Slayer," Quentin said, a hint of pride in his voice. "One of the two girls in the world to stand against the forces of darkness. Or, as in your unfortunate case, die by the hands of one."

Buffy's eyes widened as she realized why he was there. "You can't," she deadpanned.

"Oh, I can assure you, I can and I will," Quentin said pleasantly. As Buffy attempted to lift her wand, he made to say the spell to knock it from her grasp. "My liege will still have one Slayer to toy with. But you, my dear, today you are mine."

Buffy knew that she would be dead if he was allowed to torture her.

"I have some… friends… who are eager to meet your acquaintance," Quentin continued, a devilish light sparkling in his eyes. "My dearest spirits will have great fun inflicting pain unto you before they rip your body apart while you watch, helpless to act. They will consume your soul and you will die a most painful death by the slowest means." His lips twisted into an anticipatory smile. "How long I have waited for this…"

"No offense," Buffy murmured as she continued to stumble backwards towards the opposite door, "but I'm really, really good with you torturing me."

"Oh, but I am not the most proficient at torture," Quentin said modestly. "Tell me, where is Rupert? For he is the one who would inflict such great—" Quentin suddenly leapt backwards in fright as Buffy let out a snarl like a wounded animal and charged towards him. She was within two steps when suddenly her body froze. A look of dreamy unconcern moved across her face as she fell to her knees and then to the ground, landing heavily on her side.

Quentin glanced up, frowning. Standing behind where the Slayer once stood was a tall, hook-nosed figure in a flowing set of black robes. "That was uncalled for," he said quietly. "You have so spoiled my fun. Alas, there is more to be getting on with, old friend." As he turned to leave the room, a blast hit the wall above his head, sending bits of marble on top of him.

"Are you incapable of thinking coherently?" Quentin shouted as he spun around, facing Severus Snape. "You could have killed me!"

"That was the idea," Snape said in his velvety tone. He enjoyed the look of shock on the pudgy man's face. His eyes darkened as he lifted his wand again. "You see, I made a promise to this young lady's mother that I would protect her if I could. I chose not to keep to the promise once. But I will not allow harm to come to this girl again. I refuse to allow you to hurt her for a second time."

"You mean to say that you would trade your life for hers?" Quentin asked softly. "So be it."

Before the smaller man could mount a defense, his wand was knocked from his hand by a speedy, "Expelliarmus!" As Quentin struggled to maintain his ground and retrieve his wand, Snape calmly pushed forward, his foot nudging Buffy's hand out of his way. "And now, _old friend_, we duel."

x-o-x

Harry and Faith were running along the seventh floor corridor when suddenly a flash of green light caught Harry by surprise. Faith was already halfway towards the Astronomy Tower when she realized that Harry wasn't attempting to keep up with her anymore. "Harry," Faith said, running back to him, "what is it?"

"That," Harry replied, pointing out the window. Faith craned her neck and paled at the bright green serpent in the day sky.

"Oh," she muttered, pulling away.

Time seemed to pass like an eternity before Harry took her by the hand, turning her to face him. "Faith, listen to me. I love you and I am not going to let you die for this—"

As he spoke, she was aware of a sharp pain on her arm. She cut him off with a cry as she fell against the wall, her hand cradling the opposite arm as the Dark Mark turned to black. Harry saw Faith grit her teeth and meet his gaze. "You do what you have to do," she snapped through her pain. "But I expect to see you back here when it's all done."

"And I will be," he said firmly, tipping her face to his. Those pained eyes would forever haunt him as he brushed his lips to her forehead, feeling the softness of her hair beneath his fingertips. "I will be."

"Go!" Faith ordered him, attempting to kick out at him as he scampered along, disappearing into the staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower. Faith held in her nausea, the green light of the Dark Mark reflected in her eyes; she couldn't tear her gaze away from it.

Harry banged the door open and moved into the final corridor. Here the windows were larger, peaked archways that allowed him to see the Dark Mark in all of its emerald glory. Feeling the rage build within him, he turned to the staircase at the end of the corridor and froze.

Standing less than thirty feet away was a tall, pale figure. His hand was held at his side, his twisted wand protruding from it. Those awful eyes lifted and met his as Lord Voldemort said in his breathy voice, "Harry Potter, we meet again at last…"

x-o-x

_To be continued…_

x-o-o-x

**Author's Note: **The battle for Hogsmeade is over. The battle for Hogwarts is about to begin….


	22. Destiny

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 22**

**Destiny**

x-o-o-x

"I believe there's a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride,

even though sometimes we have to be steady and give up the thing we want the most."

- May Parker in _Spiderman_

x-o-o-x

Ron Weasley was getting impatient. Under lockdown in the Great Hall with other Sixth- and Seventh-years, they endured the sounds of distant bangs, thumps and shudders that would excite his older twin brothers. Instead, they were making him impatient. On his right, his sister edged along the wall nervous, her wand tapping thoughtfully against her chin. Neville and Seamus kept a wide berth as her wand emitted a few red sparks. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were sitting on top of the Ravenclaw table, the only table they had left up and not stacked against the wall, staring at the large doors and occasionally glancing up at the enchanted ceiling. For twenty minutes about a half hour before, the ceiling had been dark save a small outline of light from a dark object floating slowly over their heads. Without hundreds of usual candles that hovered mid-air, the Great Hall was dark and foreboding.

Ginny sighed and kicked at one of the benches, the loud sound echoing through the Great Hall. All eight other occupants gasped and turned to her, but she just shrugged and continued her endless pacing.

Ron grumbled under his breath, his hand raking through his hair, making it stand on end more than it already was. He was still trying to find the logic in Hermione's plan, the logic that had her tell them to sit inside the Great Hall while the rest of the battle erupted all around them. He half-wondered why she wasn't in there with him, rehearsing spells under her breath and telling others what to do. He'd give anything for one of her know-it-all routines. It was so much more comfort than watching Ginny kick the walls and scare the bonkers out of everyone standing in the room, just waiting, impatiently.

x-o-x

Harry could hardly breathe. The figure that loomed before him was the man of his nightmares, the one that had caused him so much pain, grief, anguish… and yet, Harry felt his senses return as the fear abated. He slowly lifted his wand to defend himself.

"Harry, there's something wrong up here, there's—"

Harry half-turned to see Faith running up behind him. Her words trailed off as she saw Voldemort standing at the opposite end of the narrow corridor on the steps leading up to the top of the Astronomy Tower. "Harry?" she asked softly.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Voldemort asked in that cold, sinister voice, sending shivers down Harry's spine. "Delita Black, how wonderful of you to join us."

Harry's arm shot out before he realized what he was doing, pushing Faith behind him. He had to give her credit that she didn't throw his arm aside and attack the Dark Wizard head on. Instead, he felt her small hands on his back as though trying to hide from something.

"Hmm… some great protector," Voldemort sneered, his eyes darkening as he took a step forward. "I guess underneath it all, a Slayer is only ever really a coward."

"She is not the one you need to face," Harry snapped. "I'm the one you came here to kill."

"Indeed."

"Harry, don't do this," Faith whispered behind him. "Don't throw your life away like this."

"I'm not," he growled back. "I just want him to see who he came for and not get distracted by… less important matters."

That did it. Faith straightened and gave him a hearty shove forward. "Less important matters?" she asked, her voice indicating that she was hurt. She was doing the blinking thing she did when she was feeling pain which must have been extraordinary because even Voldemort showed interest in Faith's rather fascinating facial features.

"Faith…"

"No!" she shouted, turning to Harry, her hands flying to her hips. "What the hell do you think I am?"

"Right now? You're starting to act like a migraine!" Harry shouted back, feeling the tension in his shoulders. This was the last thing he needed – a domestic dispute in front of his mortal enemy. If he died here today, the Death Eaters would still be laughing hysterically at this fifty years from now.

"And do you know what you are?" Faith replied back haughtily. "You're a… a…" Her hands reached up to grab her neck. She started making gagging noises as her body lifted into the air, suspended just inches above the ground. Harry gaped and turned to Voldemort, whose eyes had lost their rather amused luster.

"You should let the boy get in a word," he said coldly, staring at Faith as she clawed at her throat, her eyes going from defiant to helpless in seconds. "He is, after all, a tragic hero." His voice grew soft and sad, though his eyes lost none of their callousness. "Oh, my dear, I'm afraid that when you finally come to your senses and realize what has happened, the world will be in my most capable hands, even with your friends' futile attempt to defy me. You should have seen what my sentries did to the other one."

"No," Faith gasped, still tearing at her throat. "No…"

Harry felt his breath hitch in his chest. Now would be the time to use Legilimency… if only he knew how. The thought of Buffy's death sent a new fire into him. He turned to Faith and lashed out at her, using one of the techniques she had taught him and kicking her against the wall. Faith gasped as the hold Voldemort had on her ceased and she turned gratefully to Harry who once again stepped forward, his wand raised and poised to attack.

"Now…" Harry said quietly after flipping his wand to his forehead and down to his side again, a proper gesture amongst duelists. "Why don't we settle this like _real _men?"

x-o-x

Cordelia nudged a branch aside with her hand and climbed out of, of all things, a tree. She stared at the massive branches of the Whomping Willow over her head and drew in a sharp breath, glancing down in the hole where Xander was standing, waiting for her to clear. A hand was shoved under her face; Cordelia took the hand and climbed out, clinging to Remus as he pulled her away. Xander followed with a grunt, landing on his hands and knees, groaning.

"Never again," he moaned, bringing his hands to his head. "Never, ever again."

"How about we stop with the dramatics and do something positive?" Cordelia challenged him as she dragged Xander to his feet. Her gaze followed a steep hill to where she saw two women in the distance, on top of the hill near the castle. With a set mind, she started out from underneath the protective branches of the tree.

"What are you doing?" Xander asked as Remus and Sirius helped the others out from the tunnel. In the distance, they could still hear the crashes, bangs and general sounds of things being destroyed as the giants continued to fight one another over what remained of Hogsmeade.

"I'm going to help them," Cordelia replied. "And you're going to go back into the castle and—"

"Die?" Xander offered humorlessly. "How about we think of something that leads to me not dying?"

Cordelia shot him a dark look, sniffed and then ran out from under the tree, dashing up the hill and out of sight.

"That's my girl," Xander deadpanned, feeling utterly hopeless as the rest of the survivors from Hogsmeade gathered around him, "always doing the stupid thing."

x-o-x

Flashes of light danced in the shadows as two men continued to duel, traveling backwards down one of the corridors leading to the library. As Severus held the upper hand, he saw shadows moving along the wall and heard distant shouts that danger was approaching. He only hoped those foolish students would get out of the way. Quentin let out a sharp yell and darted to the side, his eyes glistening malevolently as Severus ducked a curse that flew gracefully over his head, smashing through the windows and sending a sheet of stained glass shattering to the courtyards below.

"I cannot let you get away with this," Quentin rasped as a flash of violet light narrowly missed him. "You have betrayed the one you had sworn your life to serve."

"That is beyond old news," Snape countered, his lip curling as he quickly raised a nonverbal shield charm to prevent his hair from starting on fire. Honestly, the man had spent way too much time around teenage girls. "Perhaps you should come up with something new… such as those of us who have supposedly remained loyal are no longer loyal."

"You mean your lackluster students?" Quentin panted, grinning triumphantly as one of the darts of light broke through Snape's defenses, hitting the taller man on the chest. Snape began convulsing and collapsed against the wall, groaning despite his best efforts. "Like students, like professor, I'm afraid." Quentin's lips curved coldly as he approached the downed Potions professor with his wand aimed directly at Snape's forehead. "Now… do you wish to rethink your status?"

"I think not." Snape gave a tremendous bit of effort and kicked the older man away before getting to his feet, recovering his lost ground with another swift kick to the man's midsection. Quentin doubled over, nearly dropping his wand as he backed away, those cold eyes on Snape's. Before he could land a third blow, he heard the distant sounds of screaming and what sounded like thousands of fingernails scratching the walls.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Quentin asked softly from beneath him, slowly straightening as he saw Snape's fearful expression. "That is the sound of a thousand terrible things heading this way. All of those poor students would never have stood a chance…"

"They may yet surprise you," Snape said, seemingly coming to a decision as he turned back to face Quentin. "And your little pets…of course, you would have brought them along."

Quentin's eyes narrowed. "Surely whatever magicks that foolish old coot put up are repelling my… pets, as you so properly called them."

Snape was somewhat relieved that the Inferi had yet to burrow their way into the school. They likely had caused enough destruction in Hogsmeade as was evident by the wounded Slayer. But he also knew that the fates of those inside rested on two Muggle women who used earthly magic – Wicca – or some such nonsense. He normally would protest that, but all who had the power to stop it on their own were otherwise occupied. In a way, he was glad for Potter's connections. They freed up others to do what they had to do. After a moment of both men staring in the opposite direction, Severus spun around and deflected a hex aimed at his head. He continued to push the older man further back, but it was ground that he dearly fought for.

x-o-x

With a gasp, Buffy sat up. Her head ached and there was a near metallic taste in her mouth as she climbed her way up the wall and collapsed into it. "Oh, crap," she muttered, lifting her narrowed eyes up to the ceiling. Everything was still blurry. Her chest felt as though something had smashed through it. Her hands felt her tender ribs, wincing as she came across a few broken ones.

And then she remembered.

"Son of a… stupid bastard put me down!" she snapped angrily to herself, retrieving the wand she'd somehow dropped and climbing up the wall until she was unsteadily on her feet. She staggered to the doorway, her eyes taking in the gouges in the floor and ceiling and the burst-open doors. Obviously Quentin had been sent packing by whoever had attacked her. Swearing under her breath, she propelled herself into the hall, smashing painfully into the opposite corridor, a smaller statue wedged under her hip. She winced as she pulled back, groaning as she nearly tipped forward just walking down the hallway – a hallway that had seen recent damage. Nearly every window looking out over the lake had been smashed and even the great archways were scorched.

Buffy made her way down to the main level, limping along as the feeling returned to her feet. She could now go at a half-run and still be faster than any human. She kept her wand alert, but her dazed eyes looked left to right as her headache deepened, showing signs of a concussion. At least she felt somewhat well-rested after being knocked unconscious.

She found herself near the end of the building where the courtyards were, on the backside of the great staircase. As she headed towards the main entrance, her Slayer-enhanced hearing picked up the sounds of distant screams. She turned towards them, figuring that her help would be needed when suddenly she heard a deep, guttural growling noise and a nearby shriek. Buffy ran along the corridor, kicking in a classroom door and lifting her wand, quickly surveying the room but finding nothing.

"Come on, make a sound," she whispered, backing out of the room. She saw a faint shadow disappear out of the far corridor to the staircases. Taking a deep breath, she ran towards the end of the hallway when suddenly a figure darted out, nearly colliding with her.

"Luna?" Buffy gasped, seeing the pale girl with those clear eyes staring up at her. Normally with a dazed look, Luna appeared no different other than the blood smudged on the front of her Ravenclaw robes. "What happened?"

Luna lifted a hand and pointed inside the classroom, seemingly unable to speak. Buffy put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder and tucked inside the classroom, sighing when she saw the badly-mauled boy lying on the marble. "Do you know what did this?"

Luna nodded and pointed to the staircase.

"That's what I thought." Buffy got to her feet and ran back into the hallway, turning to the other girl. "Stay here. If it comes back down, barricade the door and lock yourself inside. Do whatever magic you have to. It's the first rule – don't die. You got me?" The other girl nodded, staring at her with those tragic eyes.

Turning back to the staircase, Buffy ran forward. Her gaze swept upwards. Dozens of staircases were on the move, shifting walkways clicking out of place. She looked for one of the staircases going down to the main level, but they were all in motion. With a burst of Slayer speed, she leapt in the air and caught the railing of the nearest staircase with her hand and quickly flipped herself onto the level. She ran up the steps two at a time. When she reached the next stationary level, she quickly looked around. Something was growling about two levels up, quite angry at being locked into the staircase level. Pulling her wand into her stronger hand, Buffy waited until the next staircase clicked into place on her stationary level before she began the next painful climb up to the third floor.

As she did, she was aware of someone leaping down to the fourth story steps. She heard a growl and saw a furry creature scuttling about a level up. _Great, _Buffy thought to herself. _Werewolf._

She didn't wrap her mind across the reason why a werewolf would suddenly appear all furry except that it had something to do with the supernatural charge in the castle, not to mention the eclipse. All she knew was that a werewolf in the castle was not a good thing. The fact it had probably feasted on that poor boy was a testament to that. Buffy paused as the staircase she was started moving again, putting her in the middle of the lands and right in the line of fire.

She heard the sound of something heavy landing on the upper end of her staircase. Buffy turned, aiming her wand, but the wolf was faster. It knocked her through the railing on the third-story staircase down to the second-story stationary landing. Buffy groaned as the stone creaked beneath her body but quickly got back to her feet. She ran forward, leaping through the air to catch the next staircase before she was trapped. A moment later, the werewolf was a dozen steps above her, rearing with its front paws extended. Buffy took a deep breath. As it came at her again, she shouted out the spell to stupefy it. The spell seemed to glance right off the fur and it sidestepped her, instead leaping onto the railing and then over her head towards the stationary landing, baring its teeth at her.

Buffy took up the lull to run to the third-story landing and then run up the steps towards the fourth story. The wolf recovered quickly enough, climbing up the walls. Shrieking figures in photographs fled for their picturesque lives as claws shredded through their portraits. With a deep growl, the wolf leapt onto the fourth-story landing. Before Buffy could turn around, it slashed out, three claws swiping through her corset and leaving deep, bloody gouges in her chest.

Buffy scoffed as she looked down at her shiny corset. She actually _liked _this top and the wolf had the audacity to tear it? "You are so going to pay for ruining my shirt!" Buffy hissed, lashing out at the wolf with a swift kick. She smiled in satisfaction as it began losing ground with every pummel she dealt it. At last it tried to tackle her again, but she merely rolled along her back, kicking it over the edge. The creature bellowed as it fell, but soon she heard snarling and footsteps as it began to track upwards. Buffy chose that moment to leap from the edge to another moving staircase between the second and third levels. Her eyes saw that the creature was two levels up on her now. Frustrated at its prey moving around, it bared its teeth at her before leaping again. Buffy chose to jump to a stationary level and made to jump back to the third floor when she saw something falling from the upper-most levels.

"Buffy!"

She couldn't tell if the voice was male or female, nor could she identify who the voice belonged to. She reached out, snatching the object from midair. It was a sword, long and silver, with rubies in the hilt. She twirled the sword once in her hand and turned to the werewolf now six stairs away and crawling along as quietly as it could. With a triumphant roar, Buffy dashed downwards. The wolf threw up a leg and knocked her aside, its hot breath scraping against her neck as it dove for her nervous system. Buffy kicked out at the creature and smashed her head into his, nearly reeling from the contact. The wolf growled and reached for her again, but Buffy was ready. As it charged, she planted the sword into its chest, stopping the animal cold. It blinked twice at her before giving a tragic growl. With an angry snarl, she kicked the creature through the railing, listening as it fell three stories and landed with a thud. For a moment, the only sound in the stairwell was her harsh breathing and the singing metal in her hand. She gave the sword a happy smile before jumping through the broken railing to the first story staircase and running back down to the doors she had just come through minutes before.

Luna tucked her head around the corner of the classroom door, her eyes widening at Buffy's bloodied injuries and the sword in her hand. "Is it dead?"

"Yes, he's dead," Buffy said, offering her hand to the startled sixth-year Ravenclaw. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

x-o-x

Hermione was well aware that the doors she was guarding were not as safely protected as she had hoped. She longed for Professor McGonagall to get back from wherever she had gone to. Instead, she stood alone, her wand in her hand. She pressed her hand to the door, feeling the heat from the other side. Someone was trying to get in, but was having a difficult time doing so.

Little did she know that the doors behind her had opened, revealing five Death Eaters. Their faces took on triumphant expressions at the woman standing with her back to them, staring at the door. Their gazes swept to the left, the Great Hall, where they could hear anxious chatter inside.

But one of the Death Eaters made the mistake of stepping a little too loudly. The girl whipped around with her wand out and was nonverbally hexing before the Death Eaters could begin to mount a defense. Two were unconscious before the other three quickly ran for protecting, throwing hexes back out. Hermione did what she could to defend against her three attackers, but she knew that her strength would fail. Yet, after her small smile of triumph after downing a third, the other two came out from their hiding places, wicked grins on their faces. Hermione held her ground though, even as the door continued to burn behind her. Her concern immediately went to the door… there was a pale green smoke starting to filter through the hundreds of key holes…

Before she could even begin to figure out how to protect the school from whatever was on the other side, she heard an exultant squeal behind her. A second later, the door burst in with such force that the metal gouged through the floor, leaving crevices a foot deep. There was a sole scream from Hermione as she was caught in the blast, propelling her body to the ground with such force that the marble cracked beneath her form. As debris filtered over the top of her, her scream was cut off. Moments later, the rest of the Death Eaters streamed into the school, led by Lucius Malfoy. His cold, silvery eyes swept across the debris, the tip of his boot finding a small hand poking through the waste. He nudged the foot with a sneer before turning back to those coming in behind him. There were hammer-wielding goblins sweeping in behind them, smashing their hammers onto the wreckage as they trampled through.

"Spread out," Lucius suggested in his slippery tone, his eyes on the doors to the Great Hall. Whoever was inside had fallen quiet by the sound of the explosion. "We will take care of this." He watched as the hidden Death Eaters extracted themselves, leading the goblins out into the darkened corridors. Before lifting his wand to open the door, he turned to the other Death Eaters standing behind him. "Perhaps it would be prudent to find the witches that are holding back our infantry and _eliminate _them."

"It will be done," said one, bowing his head before disappearing out the front entrance.

"Hmm… so shall it be," Lucius murmured under his breath, turning expectantly to the door. He lifted his wand and grinned coldly at the prospect of facing the frightened students inside. "Alohamora."

x-o-x

"In here! In here!"

Laurel Wood stepped through a narrow opening and slipped into an unused classroom on the second floor, near the library. After their Potions professor had swept through, dueling with a man, the younger Gryffindors who had ventured from their Common Room found themselves trapped. Now she followed her brother around, keeping her hand on his shoulder at all times. "Spencer?" she asked in a hushed tone as her brother darted forward, turning over a table for them to hide behind. "Shouldn't we try and get back to the Common Room?"

"Ordinarily, I'd agree," Spencer said with gritted teeth. "But there was no way Mum or Dad would allow me to be out and you to be in. Wasn't that what they said, to keep my eye on you?"

"But you didn't have to," Laurel argued back as Spencer pulled her roughly behind the table.

"Will you two be quiet?" a fourth-year Gryffindor snapped, stepping behind the table as well, his dark eyes fixed on the doorway. "We're trapped in here, alright? We'll get out when we get out."

There was the sudden sound of something scraping against the walls and a voice, sickeningly sweet, called out, "Where, oh where are you little ones?" There was a sudden bang and Laurel gasped. Spencer quickly slipped his hand over her mouth as the door to the classroom they were in burst open. Through a gap between the table and the wall, Laurel saw a tall blonde Death Eater step in, his cold eyes glancing lazily around the room. He was followed by two of the ugliest creatures Laurel had ever seen. She resisted the urge to whimper and shut her mouth as Spencer pulled his hand back, reaching for his wand.

Frantically, Laurel shook her head, gesturing towards the Death Eater and the two goblins. There was no way she was going to watch her fifteen-year-old brother give up his life for this. Spencer started to get up when Laurel grabbed his wrist and jerked him back down, putting a finger to her lips. A moment later, the Death Eater had his back turned. There was one hallway that led to the next classroom. That was their only escape route.

Before she could even try to convey it to the others, the Death Eater turned and kicked at the table. The table lifted in the air towards the ceiling and came down upon the three frightened Gryffindors.

"Ah, at last!" he said, giving them all a darkly charming smile. "I have my first victims."

Laurel screamed and scampered back while Spencer and the other boy were a little slower to get up. Spencer was bleeding from where the table had struck him and it took Laurel a second to realize the table had struck him stupid. The Death Eater simply nudged aside the table with a flick of his wand before reaching out and grabbing Spencer's throat.

"No!" Laurel shrieked, pushing forward. The other Gryffindor boy grabbed her around the waist and pulled the sobbing girl away. Before the Death Eater could kill her brother, though, the goblins seemed to notice them and swung their large hammers in their direction. Laurel shrieked again and dropped to the floor. She heard the agonized mumble and the resonating clang as the hammer met its mark. She felt the boy's body lift up from where he had been standing next to her, trembling as he was smashed into the wall. Laurel chanced a look over her shoulder and immediately felt sickened. As the second hammer came down at her, she rolled aside, screaming again.

"Get out of here!" Spencer gasped as the Death Eater held him hostage, wand at his temple. "Run!"

"I'm not leaving you behind!" Laurel screamed back, kicking out at her goblin captor. The goblin dropped his hammer and the fourth-year's body crashed to the floor, looking a lot slimmer and much bloodier than it had moments before. With a sharp gasp, Laurel jumped to her feet and turned to run, only to find herself in a goblin's arms. She felt those cold hands reach towards her throat as she fought, kicked and punched her way through him, but it was not enough to gain the upper hand.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack and the goblin let go of her. Laurel and the goblin crashed to the ground. There was a roar from the Death Eater, but a shiny bit of blue light filled the air and soon the Death Eater joined the goblin on the floor. The second goblin turned to attack whoever had just rescued them, but Laurel quickly swept her foot out and the goblin, having its legs swept out from underneath them, fell with a resounding smack. Spencer was on the goblin in a second, using one of the chairs to smash it across the head before he offered a hand to his weeping sister and they turned, as one, to face their rescuer.

"Oliver!" Laurel gasped, running into her big brother's arms. He held her tightly for one second before he saw the blood splattered across her face. "It isn't mine," she assured him. He raised his eyebrows at her before turning to Spencer. Even the stoic teenager threw his arms around his brother for a moment before Oliver pulled them back into the hall.

"That Death Eater won't be down very long. Spencer… what in the blazes is your sister doing out of the Common Room? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?"

"That's what I was trying to tell him!" Laurel replied sharply, turning on her brother. "And you were the one that told me I'd be safe with you!"

Oliver left his siblings to argue for a moment as he checked on the young boy, wincing as he saw the large pools of blood. With saddened eyes, he closed the classroom door and used magic to lock it. "Right. We need to get you two someplace safe. Laurel, you're too young to be fighting. Spencer, you're hurt. We might as well—"

He was cut off just as two figures ran across a hallway perpendicular to theirs. He quickly put a finger to his lips and lifted his wand, ready to defend his family at the cost of his life if he had to. As his siblings continued at his back, he turned the corner to find another wand aimed at his head. Its bearer tipped her head and he quickly dropped his wand, relief filling every fiber of his being. "Buffy."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, aghast as he came at her. She didn't have time to chastise him further as he swept her into a hug that had her shivering before she pulled back. "I thought—"

"If you think that I'm going to watch my friends fight and do nothing to help them, you're sadly mistaken," he said, his eyes twinkling. He noticed her dark expression though as Spencer and Laurel ambled up behind him. Her eyes turned accusing and fixed onto his.

"Laurel, what are you doing out of the Common Room? Spencer, I can understand. He's in the army, anyway. But you?"

"Mum told me to keep an eye on her," Spencer mumbled, staring at his blood-spattered shoes. "I didn't think—"

Buffy wanted to tell him off, wanted to tell him how stupid he was for dragging his sister to her death. But before she could do it, she felt Luna tug on her coat and gesture down the wall. "We need to go," she said in her dreamy tone, pointedly ignoring the family concerns.

"They can't come with us," Buffy said to Oliver, drawing herself close to him so her words were for him alone. "They need to be kept safe." She turned around and looked to Luna. "But you can take them… you can keep them safe."

"Lovegood?" Oliver asked incredulously.

"Yes, Lovegood," Buffy snapped, turning to face him. She let go of his arm and turned to the smaller girl. "Luna, can you keep these Gryffindors safe?"

"Of course," she said, staring vaguely at the wall as though she expected something to jump out at them. "But they can't hold off the ghosts forever."

"Does she mean what I think she does?" Oliver asked behind them.

Buffy closed her eyes and held out her hand, offering Luna her sword. Luna stared at it before shaking her head. "I can't take that."

"Why not?"

"It's Godric Gryffindor's sword," Luna replied, looking up at Buffy with her misty eyes. "I'm in Ravenclaw."

"Well, for the time being, I'm making you an honorary House member," Buffy said, pushing the sword into Luna's hand. The other girl lifted it up slightly, as though admiring the way it shone, before turning back to the other girl. "Take these two, keep them safe. It doesn't matter where you go but out of the castle would be great."

"But there's nowhere to run to," Luna said, chewing on her lip. "The Inferi are just outside the shield. The Dark Forest probably holds the last of the vampires. Even Hogsmeade—"

"Hogsmeade is gone," Oliver said flatly. As Buffy turned back to him, he shrugged. "You were already gone when I got there. It didn't take me long to figure that you'd gotten yourself into trouble again." His eyes were on her bloodied chest and her ripped top.

There was a sudden crash and a scream from down below.

"Go," Buffy said, turning to Luna. She nodded and both Wood children ran off down the hall after her with Laurel supporting her injured brother's weight. Buffy then turned to Oliver, her eyes suddenly fearful.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Honestly? Run and hide," Buffy replied edgily. "But I guess can't always get what I want. Just… don't die, okay? Don't follow me because I don't know if…" Her voice trailed off as a loud thudding noise sounded below them and the floor seemed to tremble. "Gryffindor Tower could probably use some extra help."

"You're not trying to keep me out of the battle, are you?"

"If I were Voldemort and I was killing houses at random, I'd be going for the red-and-gold," Buffy said honestly as she moved to his opposite side, staring down the corridor. It was filling rapidly with silvery smoke. "Stay safe."

"You, too." His fingers grasped hers for a moment before they parted. Two steps later, Buffy spun around and grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled his face to hers. The instant their lips met, she felt the fire return. Before she could pull away, his hands took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Promise me you'll—"

"I promise," she said with a soft smile before she pulled away, running down the opposite hallway. He watched her for a moment before continuing on his own way.

x-o-x

Harry lifted his head and surveyed the smoldering wreckage of the hallway he and Voldemort stood in. Faith was still seated on the floor with her eyes closed, her head resting on the one part of the wall that hadn't been damaged by flying debris. The area around where her head rested was singed with black soot.

Voldemort's victory over Harry wasn't nearly as fast or decisive as he had hoped. After only a few moments of proper dueling, the two now stood, grim-faced, across from one another. Harry attempted to keep from looking too satisfied with himself, but he was grateful he knew enough to keep himself alive for this long. Voldemort was obviously not pleased as his normally calm façade had faltered to a look of the purest loathing. It was obvious that Harry's weaknesses had faded, even though one of his greatest weaknesses was sprawled at his feet. Turning slightly, Voldemort sized up the girl. He never really got the chance to know the other Slayer for Buffy had been his biggest concern. But now… he saw what oversight he had made. He automatically assumed that the Slayers would stay clear of him, not join in during the battle. Wordlessly, he searched her mind and found what he was looking for. She attempted to fight him, but he could tell that it was the first foray into her mind. He easily overcame her defenses, surprised to find that she was a squib, born to one of the purest remaining families and yet having no power, aside from her Slayer power, as her own.

He also found the marker of her greatest weakness and gave a dark smile. Harry saw this and quickly stepped in front of Faith's struggling form.

"Get out."

Voldemort barely acknowledged him as he continued searching. Harry found his temper exploding suddenly as he realized exactly what Voldemort had found. Those memories were for the two of them alone.

"I said get out."

There was a hex and Voldemort sprang backwards, scowling. He stared down at the place where the green light had struck him, somewhere near his abdominal area in the ribs. "A weak shot," he said, sounding disappointed as he looked back up at Harry. "But not altogether unpleasant. So, Harry Potter, you have learned. You have overcome previous weaknesses. But… can you overcome this?" Before Harry had a chance to defend himself, Voldemort turned his wand on Faith. "_Crucio_"

Faith gasped as the spell struck her, but she seemed able to brush it off after only a few seconds. She quickly glared at Voldemort as she struggled to her feet. "Harry's not the only one who's been learning," she said sharply. "I've got skills, too."

"Do your skills include cowardice and deception?" Voldemort asked scornfully. At her defiant glare, he replied, as softly, "I thought not." He turned back to Harry. "I have seen much – most, I can never speak of – but the horrors in her life are well-matched with your own."

_Why is he telling me this? _Harry thought desperately, trying to figure out what the Dark Lord's intentions at that very moment were. Emotions boiled through his blood as he glanced between Faith's uncertainty and the greed easily displayed on Voldemort's face. He knew he was selfish for wanting what he so desperately wanted, but now was not the time for that. But he could see their eyes lock, watched as Faith finally broke down and it nearly destroyed him. Swaying as though on uneven ground, Harry was forced to consider what he was going to have to do if Faith chose the wrong side.

_She would never betray me, even though it was written in prophecy. Because, sometimes, you have to just ignore what dead, old people said hundreds of years ago and go with your heart._

Faith seemed to understand something as she looked down, blinking away tears she refused to shed.

"Please," Faith whimpered, hugging herself as she fell back against the wall, "make it stop. Please."

Faith, begging? This was not the woman he knew, the woman he allowed himself to fall in love with. He bent down and grasped her shoulders, turning that stunned face to his. Tears sparkled like white diamonds down her cheeks as she hesitantly met his eyes. There was something deeper there, something darker. He had a feeling that he was about to face the truth of Faith's power, a power he had never really seen.

"You cannot stop destiny, Harry, no matter how hard you try," Voldemort said, shaking his long, pale arm free of its robe and bringing his opposite hand to touch the mark that dwelt there. Harry felt sickened as he realized it was the Dark Mark. Harry never knew that Voldemort carried his own mark. Granted, the serpent on his arm seemed alive, coiling and hissing, a tongue flickering in the darkness, enhanced by what remained of the sconces surrounding them.

"No," he said, realizing.

Voldemort touched the tip of his wand to the Mark, his eyes gleaming as he returned a triumphant gaze to Harry. Harry gasped as Faith suddenly fell forward, clutching her arm as though in agony. He watched as she slowly straightened up and turned to him, those dark eyes full of such loathing that he took a physical step back to get away from her.

_Kill me. _The voice was in her head, a seductive whisper that sent chills down her spine. She could feel Harry in front of her, his hands slowly removing her cloak from her shoulders, his eyes filled with love. _Kill me so that I can be whole again._

_'No,' _Faith replied, hearing her voice as though she were standing outside the small bubble they were in. Even as his lips touched her neck and her body lost all sense of control, she forced her mind to stay clear. _'No.'_

_You deny me now? _Harry sounded hurt as he pulled back to look at her.

_'I made a promise. I don't mean to break it. It's not my style.'_

_You should have thought of that before. _His voice was accusing now and she felt the sting of his hand across her cheek, though it brought her no pain. _Why are you not helping me now?_

_'Because I love you.'_The words startled her though it was her voice that spoke it, still sounding as though it came from a netherworld beyond. Faith felt the dampness on her cheeks as she cradled her head in her hands, moaning.

Voldemort did not look amused as he released Faith from the spell, watching the smaller woman shudder.

"That is not acceptable."

Faith drew a deep breath and met Voldemort with a look of such resolve that the Dark Lord was beginning to wonder why she had been chosen for such a role in the first place.

"I suppose for one thing to be done right I shall have to do it myself. You will watch your lover die before I take your life and your power." There was no hesitation on his part. Voldemort simply lifted the wand and murmured, "Avada Kedavra."

Faith didn't hesitate. She knew what was coming before Harry did, that much was for certain. The remnants of the spell went both ways. As easily as he had broken into her mind, she had enough Slayer intuition to tell her that she had pissed him off. She broke quickly, leaping across the corridor in front of Harry with a cry. Harry gasped in response, stumbling backwards as her hard body knocked into his. He also saw the stream of green light absorbed into her chest as her cry fell silent and her body fell heavily from the air to the ground.

For a moment, neither victor nor victim moved, watching as Faith fell onto her back, her wand rolling from her open hand. Blank eyes stared lifelessly over his shoulder to the ceiling.

And then Harry felt himself breaking. With a harsh bellow, he lashed out with the first hex that came to his mind. It didn't cross it that it was one of the Unforgivable curses. He just wanted Voldemort to know how seriously he meant it. Voldemort was destroying his school with his army. He had done who-knew-what to Buffy. And he had just taken away the one person that made the sacrifice he had been willing to make worth it. Voldemort quickly overcame the curse and threw another out, but Harry caught it off with a shield charm that sent one of the pillars separating windows crashing between them. Without hesitation, Harry leapt over it, continuing his assault. His mind became foggier and foggier as he struggled to control his magic. It was becoming darker and stronger, fueled by something.

Fueled by faith, ironically.

x-o-x

Buffy knew the instant the Dark Mark had been activated. Her arm burned as though on fire and she heard a voice in the back of her head telling her to turn away and to destroy the resistance on the main level. Buffy turned, stumbling into the corridor with her wand held blindly in front of her. She half-hoped she would not run into any of her former classmates because they would never be able to stand against her. As she rounded the corner, she was greeted with a blast of fresh air. She collapsed against the window and stared out at the sharp edges of shards that still remained in the pane. The rest glowed like crystal far below.

She was caught between the window and the sword that stabbed painfully in her mind, threatening everything she fought so hard against. She had worked so hard to fight against him, so hard… all to be foiled now? With tears streaming down her cheeks, she climbed onto the rail, kicking aside the remnants of the pane and watching as they shattered four levels below. Her hair flowed around her face as she stood there, staring at the fate. The voice in her mind was screaming at her to turn around, but she knew the only way to silence the voice would be to silence herself. She rose on shaky legs, blurred vision staring below as she drew out one foot and pushed herself off from the window, feeling the rush of air hit her face.

But before she could leave the ledge, a pair of arms wound their way around her waist and pulled her down to safety. The voice in her mind was screaming in triumph and she was screaming, "No! No!" and fighting tooth and nail to get back to the ledge, scratching at her captor and kicking at him. She felt the arms push her to the floor where she landed on her hands and knees. With a shriek, she attempted to charge the person when she felt a pair of rough hands grab her face and force her to stare blearily into his face.

Her mind froze, Voldemort's incessant droning fading away. Her senses returned to her in a shining moment, allowing her to see her captor – no, her rescuer – in a clear light. Her eyes held confusion as she looked up at the bumbling face, wondering why in the hell Voldemort stopped his attack and why one of his faithful would have come to save her.

x-o-x

It didn't take long for the Great Hall, or other parts of the school for that matter, to explode into action. The Death Eaters came in the front doors and quickly shielded themselves against whatever curses, hexes or jinxes had been hurled in their direction. The students quickly ducked down behind the table for protection which allowed the Death Eaters to spread into the Great Hall.

Gryffindor Tower fared no better. Only four who had been tasked to protect it out of the original twelve were still standing. The others were lined along the back wall towards the Portrait. The Fat Lady had fled when the first curse was hurled and hadn't been seen since, effectively locking students away from attackers.

The other houses huddled inside their Common Rooms, flinching at the sounds of explosions and creaks. Ghosts fluttered through walls delivering one despairing message after another. One of the worst was that Dumbledore had disappeared. Another was that Harry had fallen and the Slayers had turned to Voldemort's side. The last was that the Slytherins had broken out of the dungeons and were milling restlessly through the castle, killing at will.

The Slytherins had recovered from the attack their Head of House had spurned on them. None were happy as they banged on the door, trying to force it open to exact their revenge. Their voices were drowned out by the chill of the Dementors milling about. Before they could begin to muster a defense, the Dementors turned on their own. Their screams were drowned out by the sounds of the battles over their heads. The doors were open at last but the horrors inside would haunt memories for months to come.

Outside, near the castle but far enough away to be safe from flying debris and the enemies that were now pouring in despite their best magical efforts, Tara and Willow finally released hands as their spell was now futile. The powers of good were vastly outnumbered by the darkness that struggled to overtake them. Willow rose and stared off into the distance, her gaze troubled. Cordelia lightly touched her arm in silent support. Tara stood behind them, staring out over the Dark Forest.

"There's nothing more we can do here," Tara said softly, startling both women who turned to look at her. "The Inferi will soon overrun the shield and the best course of action—"

"Would be to get the heck out of here," Cordelia finished for her, frowning. "But isn't there something we can do?"

"There is."

Both Tara and Cordelia turned to Willow. She wore her familiar resolve face as she turned to both of them, her lips quivering into a slight smile.

"You want to see a Witch?"

"Willow, no!"

But Willow darted out of Tara's reach and spread open her arms, allowing the powers of the earth to fill her. The powers of darkness were overruling her intentions, but she was able to channel them back through the ground as the world was filled with a flash of light. Bright sunlight seemed to explode from her, spreading through the castle, blinding all those inside. The light spread through the tunnels into the remains of Hogsmeade, over the lake and into the Dark Forest. The whooshing sound of vampires falling into dust and the wailing sounds of dark creatures reacting to the light were heard, even long after the light died out.

Willow felt her feet touch the ground and she smiled, turning to see Tara staring at her, eyes shining with pride. Cordelia gave a shriek of excitement as she threw her arms around Willow, hugging the smaller girl to her. "That was amazing!" she cried.

Their happy moment was interrupted by a sudden thud on the ground behind them. Before the three could break apart, something leapt at them. Willow shrieked as Cordelia dragged her away, her eyes frozen on the sight of hundreds of hippity, hoppity, green menaces that had scared her senseless since childhood.

With the shimmering light of the Inferi quickly approaching and the Forest coming to life, the three women glanced at one another before fleeing back to the castle.

x-o-x

Ginny Weasley ducked a second curse and spun to the side as the remnant of the table next to her caught on fire. She gasped as she rolled back towards the burning table as a hole was blasted into the floor next to her. Jumping to her feet, she shot out two quick jinxes before a hand grasped her arm and pulled her back down behind the safety of the table. She spied the others taking mercy shots while trying to protect themselves.

"This is getting us nowhere," Ginny hissed to her brother, breaking his hold on her wrist. She chanced a quick look over the edge of the table and dipped her head back down again, wincing at the blast against the stone table. "There are twelve of them now. There's no way we can last against them."

"Hermione will come for us," Ron assured her. "She has Professor McGonagall with her. You'll see. You'll see."

And yet, after another five minutes watching as more dark creatures flooded the Great Hall, Ginny rolled her eyes back towards Ron, whose face was pale beneath his freckles. "Bloody hell," he whispered.

"Right," Ginny replied stoically, quickly waving the others towards her. "We need to do something. If we wait any longer, we're all dead. So what we need is—"

"A last stand," Neville murmured, meeting her gaze shyly. She never quite understood the boy's feelings for her, misplaced though they may be. She nodded solemnly, holding his gaze for a moment before turning to the others.

"We have to hold out. We have to push them back and get the upper hand, try to hold them here. If we do that—"

"The rest of the school may be saved," Parvati said firmly. Ginny nodded again and pulled out her wand. She was about to bolt out when Ron took her by the arm.

"Not you," Ron said quietly, staring at her with determined eyes.

"Who else is going to do it?" Ginny snapped back.

"Then both of us," he continued. Ginny shrugged and turned back to the sound of orders being given out. She felt the chill through the floor and knew Dementors were present inside the castle, something Dumbledore would never have allowed had he been there.

Both Weasley siblings jumped to their feet, spreading in opposite directions. They were followed by other members of Dumbledore's Army. All eight members soon had the Death Eaters, a few goblins and some hooded figures with slanted eyes that they didn't really know in the middle. But it did not come without cost. Parvati had been hit in the chest with a flash of red light and had yet to wake up. Neville was limping heavily after one of the stone benches smashed into his knee, the resounding crack of breaking bone echoing through the hall. Ron sustained a small injury from a knife, a deep red line down the side of his face and his neck that would likely scar if he left it too long. But Ginny held her own, feeling that she needed to do something to help.

She turned her back, preparing to give other orders when a thick black hand wound its way around her neck and jerked upwards. Ginny let out a soft gasp of surprise, the wand wrenched from her grasp as the hand throttled her.

"Foolish, little Weasley," a voice hissed in her ear as her feet left the ground, her body lifting up as something cold and metallic slid along her throat. "Perhaps a little too foolish."

"No," Ginny gasped, trying to catch Ron's attention. But Ron was occupied with helping Lavender Brown, who had just been knocked over by one of the goblin's hammers. She watched as her brother valiantly fought the goblin, her hands clawing at the glove holding her in place. Life swam before her eyes. It was a little on the blurry side. She could taste the bile in her throat as he shook her again. Ron suddenly realized that his sister was in mortal danger as he dropped the goblin's hammer and moved backwards, his eyes wide and terrified. Lavender sat up, her bloodied shoulder barely supporting her weight as she stared at the scene unfolding before her.

"There is no place for a blood traitor like you in this world now," the voice breathed into her ear as Ginny renewed her valiant struggle. "Why do you fight? Why do you linger on like a foolish child?"

There was a sudden crash and Ginny crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. She chanced a look over her shoulder and dove out of the way as Lucius Malfoy was driven to his knees. Standing at his back with his wand outstretched was Draco, his gaze livid.

"Let's see," Draco said sarcastically as Ginny felt a hand touch her shoulder. She spied Juliet Rosier over her shoulder and let the other girl pull her to her feet. Ron had started bashing the last of the goblins with the stolen hammer. The others were quickly gathering in the center. "I fight because I have to believe that I'm better than the Dark Lord's whipping boy. I linger like a foolish child because I went from four to twenty overnight. Oh, and yeah…" There was another thud as Draco used the edge of the three-legged stool the Sorting Hat sat upon to smash it over his father's head. "That's _my _blood traitor you're talking about!"

Juliet quickly handed Ginny back her wand and poised herself to duel.

"What made you change your mind?" Ginny asked her under her breath as the two prepared to face the four Death Eaters approaching them with hungry looks upon their faces.

"Unlike you, I am not my father's daughter."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Could you two argue later and help me now?" Ron gasped as he swung the hammer again, feeling the bones shatter at the blow. Both women glanced at Draco antagonizing his father before they turned back to Ron.

"You seem to have everything under control," Juliet called back.

Despite the brightness shining from the enchanted ceiling, the room seemed sucked into darkness. Turning to the doorway, Ginny saw five Dementors sweep through the double doors, their hooded faces glancing around. "You were saying?"

x-o-x

The hands on her face went from rough to angelic in the space of about two seconds. Buffy could hardly believe her eyes even after she recognized the person standing before her. "Peter?" she breathed. "What--?"

"We never spent time together," the man said in an apologetic voice, his watery eyes staring at his shoes. "That is partially my fault, I guess. But you are my godchild, that you are. I wonder if any had the courage to tell you." At Buffy's sickened look, he gave a sad sigh. "I thought so."

"The thought of finding myself linked to you disgusts me," Buffy snapped, forcing his hands from her face as she moved to her feet.

Peter fixed his eyes on a point to her right and gave a small, shaky laugh. "We all have our sins to face. Yours is no different. The matter is simple, though. I owed your brother a debt and I saved your life."

"You save—" Her voice cut off as she realized his eyes were fixed on her Dark Mark. Buffy glanced down and saw the black serpent was fading away into her skin. "How…?"

"Magic." Peter gave a sad smile. "My destiny was written long before you returned home, dearest. I knew I would die someday. But I—"

Before he could finish his little speech, Buffy spared him the sentiment with a left-hook. The man looked surprised as he stumbled back. "What…?"

"You'll thank me later," Buffy replied, adding a kick to send the man against the wall. A third blow across his head sent him unconscious to the floor. "Of course, by then he'd have killed you. But for all it's worth… thank you."

Turning on her heel, she ran down the corridor.

x-o-x

"Shit, shit, shit," Juliet cursed under her breath as the Dementors moved into the room. The Death Eaters seemed to pull back in glee. Only Draco was in the line of fire, but the Dementors paid him no heed. Their focus was on the nine students now gathered in the wrecked Great Hall.

"We have to do this."

"And we'll do it together," Neville murmured, limping forward and holding out his wand.

As one, eight voices shouted out, "_Expecto__ patronum!_" Eight bits of vapor shot out of eight wands, swooping to the Dementors. They quickly drifted aside, showing what they had been hiding behind their bulky forms. There were eight Death Eaters now, including the ones Hermione had stunned earlier, standing there with their wands out. Each student knew that to face them now would be death as they likely had the Killing Curse on their lips.

Ron was the first to lower his wand and drop the hammer in his opposite hand to the ground. He turned to Ginny, who stood to his right, who did the same. Even if they weren't fighting, their fate would be the same.

One of the Death Eaters smirked as his lip curled. "Avada—"

"No!"

There were twelve sudden flashes of color behind the Death Eaters. Ron blinked as he recognized his brother and others from the Order, including Sirius, Remus and Tonks. "Oi!" he shouted, taking the hammer back and charging forward. The other Order members were doing what they had to do to dispel the Dementors. The Death Eaters were quickly put down.

Draco stood up, finding his father's wand under his chin. "You idiot boy," Lucius hissed vehemently. "The Dark Lord offered you the world and you _run _from it?"

"I am _not _your son," Draco snapped as he spun around, his wand tipped at his father's forehead. "I am ashamed that you consider me like you."

"What do you have to offer to this filth?" Lucius spat. "These Mudbloods, muggles and traitors?"

"I offer a world where my only choice doesn't include dying," Draco continued, his voice trembling as father and son circled one another. "Tell me, Lucius…" His eyes glistened at his father's prominent scowl. "What do _you _fight for? A world to believe in, one with one a few dozen Wizards and way too many skeletons left? I'm willing to live with the riff, father, if it means that when the time comes, I can still have my power… and my honor."

"Honor?" Lucius scoffed. "What little honor you had in your veins has long spilled out, boy."

"You forget," Draco continued, his lips lifting into a snarl, "I'm also half Black!"

Father and son then lashed at each other, wands forgotten. Lucius had his hand around Draco's neck and was attempted to crack it when Draco felt the nerves behind his father's back and pressed hard into them. The man crumpled in his arms and Draco shoved his wounded father aside. Taking out his wand, he put it between his father's eyes.

"I'm sorry that it had to end like this," Draco said softly. "But, as my dearest cousin would say, tis a far better thing to off you now than to leave you to the dredges later. Good thing that I'm above doing the better thing, no?" While seeing the plea in his father's eyes, Draco sighed and lashed out with the tip of his foot, listening to the crunch between his boot and his father's skull. Lucius fell less than gracefully to the ground and moved no more. Draco just sighed and bent down, lovingly touching the back of his father's head. "Mother and I are not going to be afraid of you anymore."

That being said, he went off to continue the fight.

Ron was blinking uncertainly as Juliet leapt on top of the only standing table and ran down its length, sending out jinxes and hexes as she moved. With a graceful leap, she landed next to him before she pressed her back at his so better as to cover it. For a moment, he couldn't think of anything to say. Luckily for him, he didn't have to.

"You seem so stunned," she said as she kicked out, sending one of the goblins spinning into the array of benches the others had set up. "Did you really think me stupid enough to join _him_?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Ron said apologetically. "Look, Juli…"

"If we survive, you can apologize," Juliet rasped out as she jumped backwards, nearly knocking Ron to the ground. "But for now…"

"Yeah, fighting," Ron grunted, unable to look away from her. Not since he had seen Faith do battle did he ever find someone who… enjoyed… it as much as she did. Then, quietly, he added, "I owe you one for Ginny."

"No, you don't," Juliet replied, grinning as another set of figures ran into the room from the door near the faculty table. There were six in this group and they quickly sent out hexes to knock over the remaining Death Eaters. Ron was pleased to see that Percy was among them – obviously he was back on his feet enough to fight a good fight.

"Oi! You two!" a voice shouted out. They separated to turn back to Ginny, who was pointing above them. Dark shadows floated around the brilliantly-lit sky. "We've got trouble."

x-o-x

"We've got trouble," Spencer said, clutching his side as Luna stood next to him, seemingly unaffected by the sounds the Inferi made as they charged through the walls before spilling into the corridor in front of them. "Uh, Loony?"

Luna didn't say anything, but her glazed eyes stared at the four creatures that slowly bore down on them.

"Luna?" Laurel asked in a soft, breathy tone.

"In there," Luna said, tipping her head to the classroom at their left.

"And then what?" Spencer growled as he dragged Laurel into the room, Luna closing the door behind them.

"There," Laurel cried, running to a small cupboard and throwing open the door. "There're broomsticks."

"Take them," Spencer said, turning back to Luna. She was staring at the door with her wand out as though expecting the Inferi to break down the door that second. The sword was held loosely at her side in her opposite hand. "Luna, we've got broomsticks."

"The window," she said vaguely, pointing the sword behind her. "We need to leave."

Spencer held the door open as Laurel took three broomsticks. He passed one off to Luna, who blinked uncertainly at it. "I have as much chance of flying that as I do using this." She held up the sword in her hand.

"Luckily, you don't have to fly it far," Spencer replied as Laurel quickly took her broom and raced towards the window.

"But there isn't anyplace safe!" Laurel gasped. "There's nowhere to go."

"The lake should keep us safe and the mountains can hide us," Luna replied, setting the sword aside and pushing one of the large windows open. A blast of cool air hit her face, blowing her hair around. She turned to Laurel. "You first."

Laurel was the first out. She had a shaky take-off and quickly soared off. Spencer was about to follow her when the door to the classroom smashed in.

"Go!" Luna shouted, lifting her wand again. "I will hold them off."

"I won't let you do it alone," the stubborn fifth-year replied curtly. He was balancing with the broom between his legs and hopping while trying to control his wand. Luna half-turned towards him and darted to the window as the four Inferi crowded around them.

"The charm to repel them," Luna breathed to the younger boy, "is to use fire." As one, the two murmured the spell to create fire. Bright flames cast an eerie glow through the room, throwing the Inferi back a few steps. Before Spencer could argue, Luna shoved him out the window before spying the sword lying on a table near the doorway. There were two Inferi between her and that sword, but she had been entrusted with it and no Gryffindor would ever let it fall into the wrong hands. As Spencer hovered by the door, Luna suddenly flew forward as two Inferi reached for her. Spencer was ready with the curse and Luna returned to the window, her robes singed but otherwise unharmed.

Luna boarded her broom and pulled herself onto the ledge, looking down five stories to the courtyard below. Something jumped into her stomach and she hesitated, though she could clearly see two forms darting around in front of her towards the lake.

Before she could push herself off, she felt a stab of ice-cold in her shoulder. She realized then that one of the Inferi had grabbed her. She stumbled forward, her gaze blurred with pain until the broom righted itself and she went spiraling towards the ground. A moment later, she felt a hand on the front of her broomstick, guiding it back up, the angry shrieks of the Inferi still sounding in their ears.

x-o-x

Buffy closed the classroom door behind her and continued to run along the corridors. The feeling was starting to return to her back now, but it still ached. She reminded herself not to get in the way of a giant's hammer again because those things _hurt. _

She paused at the window to look out at a beautiful late afternoon. If she ignored the sounds of obvious war around them and stared down at the figures now pooling from the front doors, she could actually see it as a beautiful afternoon.

She let out a soft breath and turned around, preparing to assist those on the ground outside.

But as she turned, something like pool of molten lava landed on her chest. She blinked down to see an arm sticking out of her chest. She uttered a soundless cry as her chin lifted to look her foe in the eyes… or, more specifically, eye-sockets. Those cold depths just remained fixed at her as Buffy struggled against them. With a resounding crack, the hand withdrew and Buffy stumbled backwards into one of the archways. She felt the warmth of the blood coursing down her stomach, her shirt, her chest. She couldn't even cry out, couldn't even moan… the pain was so intense, like a bolt of lightning charging thousands of volts of electricity into her body. Startled, she felt the cold stone behind her and slid down painfully even as other Inferi gathered around her. She felt a brush of fire against her face. She felt something touch her thigh… She saw her wand roll away and she was powerless to stop it.

She knew then that she was going to die.

Using the last of her strength, she stared up as three faces bent to her, eyes pleading for death. She could feel her life spilling away as she saw trails of red on the tile. She just hoped it would come soon…

x-o-x

"_Relashio_"

The spell nearly forced Voldemort out of the door onto the Astronomy Tower. Harry charged behind him, unleashing two quick other spells. What he didn't realize was that the amulet around his neck was glowing white.

Voldemort quickly regained his footing and shielded himself from the two charms and quickly sent one of his own. Harry felt a white-hot breath of flame touch his cheek and twisted away before the curse could do further damage. Before he shouted out the next curse, he took sight of the glowing cross.

"What trinket do you need that can save you now?"

Harry frowned as he stared down at the amulet. He touched it with two fingers and blinked at the warmth. Blinking, he turned back to the Dark Lord, a small smile gracing his bruised face. "Didn't you know?" he asked softly. "Your faithful servant Faith gave it to me. You know, the one you marked and then murdered?"

There was a darkness that spread over Voldemort's face as the ugly realization came to him. "Did you _love _her, Potter?"

"More than I can put into words," Harry replied firmly, lifting his wand up again. With another blast, Voldemort was taken back a few steps. As he came forward, he felt rejuvenated; alive… he had never felt this way before. He stared down at the amulet, half-wondering what affect it was having on him. He wasn't going to argue with it – if there was any time he would need the power, now was it.

x-o-x

With a graceful leap, Juliet joined her fellow classmates on the grass. More than three dozen were facing off against a few dozen Inferi, a handful of Dementors, about a hundred goblins and the last five Death Eaters to remain standing. A few had elected to remain behind in the school to help hunt for the missing Inferi that had been seen last headed towards the Common Rooms. But, as of this moment, the Hogwarts students were on the offensive. And, for the first time, they had the upper hand.

x-o-x

There was a resounding crack as the chandelier fell stylishly from the high ceiling, shattering at the men's feet. Severus let out a snarl as he rounded the large object, using a quick flick of his wrist to cut down on the flames stretched for the staircases. If that fire got out of control, the library one level below would be threatened and he would not have that. And yet Quentin had finally leapt on the offensive.

Seeing the shadowy things moving in the background, Snape chose to change tactics. He let Quentin fight him back, let him back Snape into a wall or two. Yet the stupid man didn't seem to realize that Snape was toying with him until he let out an unholy torrent onto the portly man. Quentin struggled backwards, clutching his side as Snape lazily flicked his wand back and forth, seemingly using little effort at all.

"You do realize you do this to protect a Slayer that, until last year, you never knew existed," Travers wheezed as he bent at the knees.

"Yes," Snape murmured. "I am aware. I am also aware that you were once her mentor."

"I have never stooped that low," Travers replied coldly. "Honestly… this girl thinks she's invulnerable, just like every other bloody idiot in this school. They don't stand a chance with the Dark Lord poised to take over." He gasped again as another flesh wound appeared on his face. His hand reached up to touch the stinging tissue. "You honestly mean—"

"Oh, I believe in honesty," Snape muttered. "But I have yet to try it on those who don't deserve it." He was aware that they were being watched now, predators preparing to snoop down on prey. It was time to give them their prey. "I have standards just like you. Only I don't allow my own creations to do this."

Quentin stared at him, mortified, for only a moment before Snape whispered something and Quentin screeched in pain. He felt his Inferi draw nearer to him, feeding off of his fear.

"Goodbye, old man," Snape whispered in an eerily calm tone as he lifted his wand once again. Quentin's cries were instantly silenced as it seemed his entire outer covering had just disappeared, flying off of him to reveal little but sinew and muscle and blood beneath. The scent was rank enough, but the sight… even Snape's stoic stomach turned at observing the bloody, skin-less man quivering before him. Four Inferi dove from the shadows, instantly turning on their master as they dragged his corpse back. "What pain you inflicted on those girls has now been repaid tenfold. My promise has been fulfilled."

x-o-x

"Something's wrong," Ginny whispered. It was something in the wind, like a change. It seemed that the Inferi had suddenly lost interest in the fight and were turning on the other dark creatures. The students paused and took stock of what they were seeing. The green glow from the enormous Dark Mark was finally starting to fade, but Ginny knew that victory wasn't yet complete. She moved around the fallen figures until she saw Ron's freckled arm poking out. She grasped it and pulled as her brother dragged to his feet, groaning and clutching his bloody head. Juliet appeared next with Draco, the two supporting one another with various injuries. A quick glance exchanged between the Weasley siblings was enough to ensure that this is what they had been hiding from the other.

There was a sudden scream and Ginny spun around. There was a figure completely cut open by the Inferi on the ground. Ginny clasped a hand over her mouth and turned away, throwing herself into Ron's arms. His arm held hers, but those normally tranquil eyes held nothing but disgust as he saw his elder brothers come forward with somber faces, staring at the battlefield around them.

"It isn't over yet," Percy said quietly, supporting a badly-limping Emma.

"I should say not," said a cold voice from the doorway. Before Percy could turn towards the voice, a jet of green light hit his chest, knocking both him and Emma down. Ron spun around to fight him off but was disarmed. Ginny tried a second later and was literally thrown halfway across the lawn towards the hill.

Lucius Malfoy stepped down with a malevolently cold grin, a few Death Eaters trailing behind him. "So close and yet…" His grin widened as he saw his son nearly toss aside the young woman he held onto in order to reach for his wand. Before Lucius could hex his son, the last of the Order of the Phoenix arrived. A large metallic object smashed Lucius across the back of his head just as Draco all but shouted out a desperate curse, his eyes searching for Ginny. He saw her near the hills with a thin trail of blood seeping out from underneath her coppery hair.

There was a cry as Remus and Sirius came out to take on the Dementors. They didn't seem to take kindly to the Inferi turning on them. But the Inferi far outnumbered the Dementors and the foul, former guards of Azkaban turned to the wounded in order to suck out their happiness, likely to feed on their strength. As though communicating with the rest of the order, the large patronuses did their best to hold off the torment. But it seemed as though they all turned, as one, to stare at the tower in the distance. As one, they started floating backwards, disappearing into the afternoon shadows until they were, at last, out of sight.

And then, as though on cue, the ground began to shake. There was a tremendous rumble from the school as students, teachers and friends alike turned as one to watch in horror as the school began to sink.

x-o-x

Harry was beginning to realize that something was powering the amulet. He had a feeling that, because of the darkness he felt from it, the amulet was channeling magic from Voldemort's dark creatures. He welcomed the switch. Now, at the edge of the tower, the Dark Mark all but faded, Harry tore the amulet from his neck.

Twisting the top, he revealed a sharp point with a quivering tip. He held it in one hand and loosely grasped his wand in the other.

"I do not fear death," Voldemort said quietly, seemingly sensing that he couldn't defeat Potter. He had slowly felt his beloved followers slipping away. "But—"

"None of us really fear death anymore," Harry snapped, taking another step closer. Voldemort attempted to defend himself but Harry quickly disarmed him and held the amulet under his arm as he snapped one of the most powerful wands in the world in half. As he did, bright light suddenly flowed around him, turning the amulet from white to gold. The tip seemed to grow longer, showing off a faint, green color.

"Of course, if you had anyone left, you'd know that they'd follow you to… oh, wait, that's me," Harry said dryly.

"The power is strong, isn't it?" Voldemort asked him, a strange look on his pale face. "All of that power, channeled into one source…"

Harry knew he was weakening. The fight had lasted a good, long while and he had been injured. Even as he stumbled closer, he held the amulet for the Dark Lord to see.

And then he plunged the sharp tip into Voldemort's armor.

The poison it held easily went through whatever levels of protection Voldemort had weaved around himself. There was a blast of light and a soft ping as Harry stumbled backwards, blinded. He didn't see the look of astonishment on Voldemort's face as the Dark Wizard pulled the amulet from his chest, his face retorting.

"You think you may have changed the world, Potter, but you'll see… you'll… see…."

Harry watched, half-blinded by pain as he fell to his knees, as Voldemort toppled over the edge of the Astronomy Tower. With a loud cry, he fell backwards, through the open doorway and tumbling down the steps. His wand landed a few feet away as he landed on his back. He stared at the dark splotches of light over his head. He saw the trembles before he felt them.

And then he saw nothing at all.

x-o-x

Buffy was only acutely aware when the Inferi left her. By the time she came to her senses, one of the statues crumbled and fell, the large bronze object pinning her to the archway. Her body was cold, numb… she had never felt like closing her eyes more.

Even if it would finally set her free.

And she would be able to see her parents again.

x-o-x

Willow and Tara were running along the fourth-floor corridor when the school began to shake as though an earthquake. Willow quickly found a doorway and reached for Tara, pulling the taller girl under the safety of one of the archways as they bent down, riding out the tremble as the school slowly began to dip.

Outside on the lawn, frightened students began to spread back from the school.

Inside, students in the dungeons suddenly gasped as their fireplaces suddenly tipped forward, spreading flames greedily across the floor. Those that actually kept their heads were quick to put the flames out.

Those frightened students who actually sat in the library ran to the walls as the bookcases began collapsing, one on top of the other.

In the corridors, windows that still remained intact shattered, spilling glass outside. The walkways began to buckle, sending an explosion of rock and wood outwards. In the lower levels, lights swung precariously, a few tipping onto the ground and catching fire.

At the front entrance hall, the doors that had been smashed in sank further into the ground, taking with them a pale arm and the remnants of their first protection.

A few moments later, the quaking stopped. Frightened students came from their hiding places, looking around uncertainly.

And, as a rush of dust and hot air spilled into the air, turning it from clear to yellowish-grey, everything finally seemed to settle.

x-o-o-x


	23. The Mourning After

x-o-o-x

**Chapter 23**

**The Mourning After**

x-o-o-x

"If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream."

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

x-o-o-x

For hours after the school had stopped quaking, there was utter chaos. Students were rushed from their Common Rooms onto the grounds so as to avoid falling debris as the ancient castle itself seemed to fall apart. Their voices cried out in dismay as they saw the shambles of Hogsmeade in the distance and saw what had become of the forest where a hard-fought battle between centaurs and vampires had occurred. Even know smoke settled like a blanket over the lake. In the distance, three broomsticks touched down and three students came forward to join their peers.

As the students were rushed out, the wounded were rushed back in. Madam Pomfrey was up to her neck in wounded and more kept coming in.

"Poppy," Professor McGonagall said, weaving her way in and out of the throngs of students outside the infirmary's doors, "where did all of these come from?"

"Most are bruises from the shaking," Madam Pomfrey replied briskly, sticking a spoon roughly into one student's mouth. "But there are more serious injuries coming in now. We should clear away most of these to the Great Hall—"

"The Great Hall is in no condition to accommodate students," Professor McGonagall said quietly. At the nurse's surprised look, the Deputy Headmistress put a finger to her lips, not wanting to frighten the younger students. "But we need to get them from here… there are others that need seeing to, others with more serious conditions."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and quickly had the older students take the injured younger students down towards the Library. As they continued away, Professor Snape suddenly arrived, his gaze serious. "Severus!" McGonagall breathed, seeing the professor and feeling an almost-giddy relief at his survival. "I thought for certain you were dead."

Snape smirked; he knew that he would defeat Travers, but it didn't mean that the rest of his fellow staff members had such faith in him. "Just alive enough to see what I can do, Minerva," he said quietly, glancing back and forth at those cradling their heads or wincing with broken bones. "Is this the extent of it?"

"I fear not," McGonagall murmured. "There are other students that are injured worse I fear. When I passed by the Great Hall there were…" Her voice failed her and she pressed a hand to her chest, as though her heart couldn't take the thought of her beloved students buried beneath the rubble.

"I found Miss Potter on the fourth floor, but when I went back to retrieve her, she was gone," Snape replied.

"She survived the fight at Hogsmeade," McGonagall said pensively, staring off into the distance.

"Not everyone did," a different voice piped in. The two turned to a pair of individuals. There was a man propped between them, a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be. One of the pair was a Watcher and the other was one of the girls from California, her dark hair streaked with blood.

Professor McGonagall realized that Rupert Giles was the first of their deceased.

"He isn't the only one," Wesley murmured after Rupert had been set upon a stretcher, a sheet drawn over his head. "There are others in Hogsmeade."

"There are others everywhere," Cordelia replied sharply.

"Is either of you two seriously injured?" At their shaking heads, McGonagall made up her mind. "Perhaps you two would care to assist with recovery?"

"We will find as many as we can to help," Wesley assured her before turning to Cordelia. "I thought I saw Faith's brother and Remus headed upstairs."

"When I ran across Willow and Tara, they were looking for Buffy," Cordelia added. "But we'll do what we can."

Professor McGonagall bowed her head gratefully. "That is all I ask."

She watched as the pair left. Already, her gaze filled with sorrow as she carefully stepped past the stretcher, gazing out the large windows that overlooked the grounds. Already the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, signaling the end of the day. She closed her eyes as an immense exhaustion filled her. She wanted to close her eyes and stay asleep for days, but there wasn't enough time.

Already, she could hear the singing…

x-o-x

"Blimey, look at the damage," Sirius commented to Remus as the two continued their painfully slow movement to the Astronomy Tower.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Remus asked quietly. At Sirius' sudden pensive look, he couldn't help but laugh. "I didn't mean to make you all moody, Padfoot."

"Ah, Moony, you read my mind," Sirius replied jovially. "I think we should get to remember the last time we were all up here together."

Remus couldn't stop laughing at the memory of the two of them, Peter and James coming up here on the night before their leaving ceremony to carve their names into the notch of stone on the tower.

"We're getting closer," Sirius said as they walked through a hallway, gazing at the amazing amount of glass and debris littering the ground. "I think we should—"

"Sirius!" Remus's voice was sharp, direct. The other man turned to follow Remus' gaze until he realized just what his friend was looking at. He felt his heart stop beating, felt as though time had stopped. His eyes widened as he fell to his knees, his mouth stretching into an endless scream.

"NO!"

With an angry bellow, he pulled his sister's body into his arms. "No, no, no, no, no, no…" Sirius murmured, pushing her hair from her face and patting at her pale cheeks. "No, no, no, no…"

Remus calmly placed his hand on Faith's neck but felt nothing. Judging by the anxious expression on her face and the fact her eyes were still open, he could only assume she had been taken by a Killing Curse. "Sirius, she's gone."

"No, no, no…" the other man wept. "Not now… not now… too soon… NO!"

Remus allowed Sirius a moment in his grief as he held his sister, her cold body solid against his quivering warmth. He longed to hear her voice again, to hear her laughter, to hear anything! They had had such precious little time together… he never got to know her at all… her favorite color, her favorite biscuit, whether or not she actually cared for dogs…

"Sirius," Remus said, gently putting his hand on Sirius's shoulder as the man cried out again, all of his grief and pain accumulating into an endless shout that seemed to echo all around them. "We must find Harry."

Sirius tearfully set Faith to the ground, using a trembling hand to brush her eyes closed. His face tightened in agony as he stood as though in great physical pain before he turned to Remus. "I… I hardly knew her…"

"I know," Remus replied, not knowing what he could say that would attempt to comfort his dearest friend. "But we must look for Harry."

Sirius nodded, his gaze sliding past Remus and along the floor. His stricken look was enough to let Remus know that he had found what they were looking for. Remus turned and lifted several beams that had fallen from the ceiling. His eyes narrowed as he saw Harry's face. His scar was bright red against his pale skin and there was no movement. "Harry?" Remus said softly, tapping at the younger boy's face. "Harry?"

"Oh, please, not them both," Sirius begged as he dropped to his knees, assisting Remus as they lifted Harry from the rubble. "Please, not him too!"

Harry's body was not nearly as firm as Faith's. When Remus pressed his fingers to Harry's neck, he let out a soft sigh as he felt a weak tremble beneath his fingertips. "He's alive."

Sirius started tearing up again as they got Harry propped between them. But it was nothing compared to the look of tender agony on his face as they again passed Faith's body. "We can come for her later, all right?" Remus asked his friend as they began the long journey back to the infirmary.

"Right," Sirius replied in a woolen tone. "I can come and I can take her home again."

Remus felt his heart break for his friend as they continued on. There was little that could be said. But knowing that Voldemort was dead and his dark forces scattered was enough to give him a small moment of triumph. They heard the songs of the students sung outside from the broken windows. It was lovely, joyous… as soothing as the song from a phoenix.

Two floors down, Willow and Tara moved carefully from room to room, wincing at the amount of ceiling, wall or a combination of the two blocking their way. Tara used a small enchantment to push some of the larger chunks from their path as they ducked into another room. This room was also strewn with blood, two bodies on the floor. From what they saw, they had both been gutted by Inferi.

"This is horrible," Willow whispered as she and Tara quickly left the room.

"I never knew anything could be capable of such evil," Tara admitted.

"I guess you've never hung out with a vampire Slayer before," Willow said with quiet conviction.

"I guess I'll have to find time for it."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean you had to… I'm just saying that you probably don't get to see these things everyday. I only did because of Buffy. I didn't mean that you didn't see anything."

"I didn't mean to set you off," Tara replied cheekily. "You are too cute when you babble."

Willow's mouth opened and closed as her face tinted pink. "I like babbling," she protested under her breath as they approached another room. After they pushed the door open, they found that there was a body against one of the columns. Willow was about to turn away when she noticed a familiar wand against Tara's shoe.

"Oh, goddess," Tara murmured as she glanced at the bloodied form before them.

"Buffy?" Willow gasped, rushing forward. Buffy was leaning on a column that was slick with blood. She sat in a large pool of it. Her eyes were half-closed and a thin trail of fluid ran from the corner of her mouth, dripping softly to the marble tile. Her chest had been pried open and her once lovely corset top had been nearly shredded. It looked as though half of her innards were hanging out. "Buffy?"

"Willow…"

"No!" Willow murmured, getting to her feet and backing away. "We… we need…"

"Wil…"

"No!" Willow shouted indignantly. "She is my best friend. I'm not… not…" Turning on her heel, she sped towards the back of the classroom and kicked the door open, screaming out into the hall, "Help! Somebody help us!" She repeated it until her throat ached and tears burned in her eyes. "HELP!"

She heard footsteps approaching as two figures suddenly appeared, their identical faces somber. Willow stopped screaming and stared at them in disbelief. This was exactly the last thing she needed, the two twins that apparently never took a day seriously in her life.

"What is it?" one of the two asked while the other paused to clutch a stitch in his side. "What happened?"

"In there," Willow replied in a hoarse tone, gesturing into the classroom. The twins led her back in. She heard them both gasp audibly and, the next thing she knew, Buffy was in their arms.

"Teeny? Teeny?"

"She can't hear you." Tara was calmly standing against another column, Buffy's wand in her hand. "She can't hear you."

But one of the twin's shook his head, angry tears visible in his eyes. "Dad!" he shouted out. "Dad!"

There was another moment before two more men came running into the room. The elder of the two stopped, his eyes widening in horror. "Merlin's beard," he muttered under his breath. The younger of the two stole forward and gently pried the woman from his younger brother's arms. "How can she be—"

Willow could barely breathe as she fell back to Tara, watching as the four men started their work on Buffy. She saw bits of colors, flashes of light and soft thumps but never did she hear Buffy take a gasping breath or give any other indication that she was still alive. She felt Tara reach for her hand and let her friend take it, knowing that she would need the strength now more than ever.

With a groan, Ron Weasley stepped back into the school. His sister was propped between him and Seamus as they helped Ginny up to the steps. They were quickly led aside by Aurors who were protecting the doorway, looking grave. As they slipped past the Great Hall, Ron gaped at the damage inside. The doors had been blown apart, leaving a gaping hole. The tables were either in splinters or else they were still smoldering. Ron wasn't paying attention to where he was walking and his foot brushed something soft. He looked down and leapt back in horror when he realized he nearly stepped on an arm.

"Who is that?" Seamus asked, realizing that Ron had found someone.

"I don't know," Ginny answered groggily. "But I need to sit down or I'm going to throw up." Seamus quickly set Ginny on the steps and helped Ron move large bits of rubble from the floor. His eyes widened as he realized just how deep this body went. His heart leapt in his throat as he suddenly realized who was being pulled from the rubble.

"Hermione?" Ron gasped as Aurors and members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement came forward to assist in getting her out. There was no mistaking her wild hair or the shiny Head Girl pin on her school robes. He felt as though time stopped as she was carried past him. He heard Ginny cry out and fall over as her injured foot gave out. As his sister started wailing in pain, he went to help her.

"It was Hermione, Ron! Hermione! How can that be?" Ginny sounded stricken, her face pale under her freckles. "Ron!" She pressed her face into her older brother's robes. He held for a moment, his hand gently stroking her hair.

"Shh… I know."

And together, the two siblings helped the other up the steps to the infirmary. They had a feeling they would be more needed there than they were down here.

x-o-x

Buffy calmly walked. It didn't matter where she was going. But the sand was soft and grainy beneath her toes. The sun felt warm on her shoulders, felt good on her face. For some reason, her chest hurt but she wasn't going to give it a second thought. It just felt too good to be here with the sand and the sun and the warmth. Oh, and the ocean. The smell of the water was intoxicating.

She finally found a place to rest and sat, staring out over the horizon as endless waves came up around her. She smiled at the distant sound of birds and the slight disturbance on the sand as she felt someone approach her. A shadow lingered over her shoulder and she turned her neck, smiling at the figure that dropped down next to her.

"It's pretty here," Harry said solemnly.

"I know," Buffy replied with a soft smile. "There's just something about the ocean… it's so calm here, so peaceful."

"It's quiet," Harry agreed. "I can almost hear myself think. But… what does this mean? What happens now?"

"I don't know."

Harry shook his head, inhaling the warm air and letting it soothe him. "How… what…?"

"Shh," Buffy whispered, smirking over her shoulder at him. "You won. Come on… bask in your moment of glory."

"But…"

"Harry, listen to me," Buffy said, turning in the sand to face him, squinting in the light. "Don't ask questions you know I can't answer. I don't know anything… I've been here awhile." Harry followed her gaze and saw the long line of footprints.

"She's right," a third voice piped in. "And are you two the sorriest lot I've ever seen."

Both Buffy and Harry turned to look over their shoulders. A dark-haired woman in a white slip dress stood there, waving at them. "I guess you're surprised to see me?"

"I'm not," Buffy said with a warm smile.

"Faith, I—"

"We'll talk later," Faith told him with a gentle look of such tenderness that Harry felt his heart melt. "I've got to talk with big sister first." Bending down, she pulled Buffy to her feet. "Privately, I'm afraid."

Harry watched as Faith and Buffy disappeared before he turned back to the ocean, a small smile sliding across his face.

After they had walked for awhile, Buffy finally decided she had enough drama that she needed to know. "How did it happen?"

"It was quick."

For that, Buffy was grateful. "So is this your dream or my dream or…?"

"Beats me," Faith chuckled. "So much to say, so much I need to do and so little time." Her face turned pensive.

"How much more can there be to say?"

"Come on Buff," Faith smirked, turning back to her sister Slayer. "You're like the closest friend I've ever had. We've shared so much… I can't believe it's over."

"Why?" Buffy asked. "I mean… we're going to see each other a lot in Heaven, right? I don't plan on going to the other place."

"You won't be seeing me, B. You've still got fifty good years ahead of you. There's Quidditch uniforms and pitter-pattering feet in your future. And to say that the future is set in stone is a joke, but when you die, you just know, you know?"

"I think I know what you're saying."

"I think I know where the prophetic dreams come from now," Faith murmured. "I mean, everyone up here is a Slayer and we all see the future… and we can do the dream thing. So, you know, we can hang out again in your dreams."

"You really mean you can see the future?"

"So did you," Faith protested. "That night the Master killed you… when you woke up, you knew you could kill him because you had already seen it. It's a powerful gift to have… one I can't wait to share with the next one."

"The new Slayer," Buffy realized.

"I died so the next one is probably called already. You've got to find her. And you've got to let her know about the world… both of them."

"I will," Buffy promised.

"And I promise that I'll keep good ol' Giles busy. He'll have his hands full, learning about the history of the world and seeing how many books Heaven can hold… he'll still be busy cracking the surface when you come up."

"So, you see a good husband and kiddies in my future?"

Faith winked at her. "I see Quidditch hunks and pitter-pattering toddler feet in your future, yes. I also see a brilliant job, a loving brother and a devoted fanbase committed to your every need."

"What about—"

"What kind of sister would I be if I took you to the end of the journey without you actually getting there?" Faith frowned. "That wouldn't be very wise, would it?"

"I guess not." Buffy let out a long breath as she turned to her sister Slayer and yanked her into a tight hug. "I am so going to miss you."

Faith's arms clasped around Buffy's shoulders as she closed her eyes, allowing herself one last moment with her Slayer and feeling the tears pool in her eyes. "Look after my brother, won't you? He won't get this whole Slayer dream thing, but I know he gets you. You and Harry are important to him… and he needs to know who I am."

"I'll tell him," Buffy said, stepping back with a tight smile, tears shimmering behind those hazel eyes. "I promise I'll tell him who you are."

"You've got a life to live now and a world you just helped save," Faith replied. "Buffy Summers, how do you feel?"

"I think I'm ready."

"That's my girl," Faith whispered, reaching out to touch Buffy's head and smiling as the golden girl disappeared. "That's my good girl." Taking a deep breath, she went to retrieve the younger Potter sibling.

He was still staring at the sea when she sat next to him. A moment passed before his hand found hers in the sand, his thumb brushing over her hand. Her head tipped to his shoulder, inhaling his scent and feeling her heart break all over again.

"What is this place?" he inquired after some moments of silence.

"I don't know… I'm thinking it's a dream."

"I think I'll like these dreams."

Faith gave him a wicked smile as she rose to her feet. "Walk with me?"

"I'll always walk with you."

Faith turned away so he couldn't see her pained expression. They walked for a few moments before he took her hand again. "Is this the kind of vacation you're looking for?"

"No," Faith replied. "It's not quite what I had in mind, but I'll take it."

He was quiet for a moment before he said, "I watched you die."

"You did."

"So…"

"See, there's this thing called a Slayer dream. In the dream, a Slayer sees the future. And I see that you have a future. You've got such great friends and the world right now… I can hear them singing and laughing and praising your name. Its beautiful music and I wish you could hear it. I really wish you could hear it."

"Faith?" he asked, reaching for her. She let him take her arm as his wrapped around her shoulders.

"You are going to hear it… every day for the rest of your life. The world still has its darkness, but it has found its light. And the journey ahead of you… it's the greatest adventure. It's full of mystery and intrigue and drama and light and love… it's the perfect road for a hero to take. And you've got so much power now… it's time to use it for good." Her breath caught in her throat as she realized just how intense his eyes were. "I only wish I could take that journey with you."

She watched the pain cross his face as he turned away, but he never let her go. "What do you mean…?"

"I can't come with you," Faith replied, shrugging. "I'm sorry, but that's how these things work. You've got the rules and you've got me and you've got me following the rules. This is what I've got to do now. There's so much to do and so little time, but we'll be seeing each other again. It'll take awhile though."

"Because you can see my future?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Do you want to know what I saw?" When he didn't answer her, she continued on. "I saw that you were at peace. You had a great career. And you learned to trust your heart again."

"How can I trust my heart when it's telling me I'm in love with you?"

For the first time, Faith felt her perfect control slip. "I… I have never had anyone love me before like that. And I'm pretty sure that every girl who dreams of love and devotion would be lucky to know what it was like to feel like me when you first told me you loved me. But… I knew we wouldn't last forever. I… I had to die for you to live. I knew that. I accepted that. But in my life, I've never loved anyone more."

Harry took that moment to wrap her in his arms and pull her closer, feeling her tremble in his arms. "I will never stop," he vowed, tightening his grip.

She grabbed him by the arms and pushed him away. "Yes, you will. You wanna know why? I've seen your future. If you take this path, you won't live as long as it takes to know what true peace feels like. You are the one the world counts on now. You are the chosen one. You've got so much ahead of you… don't throw it all away for me. Please… please… Harry, you have to let me go."

She watched as his face tensed and he looked away. A moment later, his hand came up to brush the tears from his face. "I…"

"Shh…" she whispered, pressing her finger to his lips. "I only have a moment. I want to spend my last moment in this dream with you." Taking him by the face, she pulled it down to her, brushing her lips to his. He pulled her closer but felt her slipping away, even after she pushed his arms away, smiling. "I'll be seeing you."

Harry watched as Faith turned and walked away, disappearing into the mists a few seconds later. He just turned back to the sea and sat, unable to remove his eyes from the horizon. He felt the numbness from the tips of his fingers to the bottoms of his feet.

This, he thought to himself, was what it felt like to live in a world so close to the light, but never be able to touch it again.

x-o-x

Hundreds of students and others had gathered at the grounds at dusk. Soon the flickering lights of hundreds of candles as well as a solemn chant filled the air, surrounding Hogwarts. Inside, the scene was still somber. The harder cases had been immediately sent to St. Mungo's, including Buffy and Harry. The one wing had been turned into a morgue. Eight Death Eaters were lined in the corridor, but there were eleven in the morgue itself, including star Gryffindor student Hermione Granger. There were ten Slytherin students from the sixth and seventh years that were removed from the dungeons of Snape's classroom and brought to St. Mungo's as well, though there was little that could be done now that they had received a Dementor's kiss. Friends and families had gathered with the fallen.

And, at last, Hagrid approached with a figure slung over his shoulders. It was with great pain that Professor McGonagall saw Professor Dumbledore lowered to the last available cot. Her eyes held compassion as she touched her mentor's face and placed his hands neatly over his chest. "You've done good, old man," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "We won."

x-o-x

It was with great effort that Buffy opened her eyes.

The ceiling above her head was white. Remembering her dream during her coma, she felt a slight amount of panic, expecting to see her parents or Cedric hovering over her, telling her things weren't real and that she needed to wake up and face the real world. Instead, she turned her head and found a redheaded figure hunched over her hospital bed, snoring lightly.

"Willow?"

A figure on her opposite side suddenly sat up, a book falling loudly to the floor. "Buffy? You're awake?"

Buffy's head snapped weakly to the other side. "Hi, Wes. Good to see you, too."

Wesley's eyes turned down to Willow as he shook the younger girl. "She's awake!"

Willow sat up, yawning. "Sorry, I just dropped…" Her eyes widened when she saw Buffy smiling at her. "Oh, my… you're alive! You're there… you're really there! I… I found you and Tara said that you were dead, but I didn't want to believe her, but I can't… oh, goddess!" She threw her arms around Buffy and clung to her, weeping. Buffy held her best friend back for a moment before collapsing back into her mountain of pillows.

"What… what happened?"

"An Inferi attempted to pull the same maneuver they did with Giles," Wesley said briskly. "They didn't succeed. You were in bad shape though when they brought you in."

"When who…?"

"That would be us," a somber voice came. Buffy's eyes lit up at seeing Fred and George Weasley. Behind them stood their father and apparently the last brother she had never met.

"Hi," Buffy breathed. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. You're both insane!"

"They wouldn't be my sons if they weren't," Arthur Weasley said with a small smile.

In a room across the hall, Harry slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright lights directly overhead. He felt a sudden pressure at his waist and looked up to see Mrs. Weasley gently smoothing over his sheet and talking to someone over her shoulder. The person suddenly pointed forward and Harry found himself being lifted painfully from his hospital bed and into Mrs. Weasley's arms. He sighed and relaxed into the embrace, feeling like he had never been that warm or welcomed before. His eyes filled with tears as she gently set him back. As she moved away, he saw both Ron and Ginny standing there. Ginny's arm was in a sling and Ron's face was bruised, but both were alive and all right.

"Harry! You're alive… in one piece!"

"It's good to see you, too," Harry said as Ron patted his arm. He smiled at Ginny, who smiled back, though her smile was more guarded. He heard the distant voices in the background, but he couldn't tell them apart. "And Hermione, she's okay?"

Harry didn't miss the dark look exchanged between the Weasley siblings.

"Ron?"

"She… didn't make it," Ginny said in a small voice.

"What?" Harry felt as though his chest had deflated. "What do you mean, she didn't make it?"

"From what we were able to gather," a new voice stated as Arthur Weasley suddenly appeared over his wife's shoulder, "she died when the entrance doors were blasted in. But we found four unconscious Death Eaters around her. She saved the lives of every single person inside the Great Hall." He gave his son and daughter a significant look. "That includes your lives."

"Oh," Ginny whimpered.

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He felt tears running down his cheeks. "Buffy?" he whispered. He didn't want to know the truth, but Faith hadn't said anything to him about her. For all he knew, she sent his sister off to Heaven before she realized what had happened.

"She's much worse off than you, mate," Ron said quietly. "When they brought her in…" Ginny let out another whimper and Ron wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulder. Harry felt his heart plummet.

"You won't have to worry about that now," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "She's awake."

Harry let out a long breath of relief and sank back into his pillow, closing his eyes. "How…"

"It's a new morning," Mrs. Weasley replied. "There are thousands behind you, even more. There is a vigil outside Hogwarts now, waiting to hear word that you live."

Harry frowned slightly. He was alive. He felt strong… he felt powerful. He held up his bruised hand and flexed his fingers, appreciating the way they moved. "How many did we lose?" he finally choked out.

There was a look exchanged between all in the room. Harry felt his heart lift as Lupin and Sirius both ducked inside, grinning. Lupin held up a large box of chocolates and Sirius held a ridiculously large stuffed black dog. "There are loads more downstairs," Sirius said, knocking aside an empty bottle of potion and a bedpan while Lupin added the gifts to the small table beside the bed.

"Thank you," Harry said, taking his godfather's hand.

"You just get yourself better. You get to be a hero now."

Harry felt his eyes moisten again and he vaguely wondered since when he became such a show of waterworks. It was almost humiliating for him, a young man, tearing up over every little thing.

"To answer your question, we lost a fair few," Lupin said mildly, gently interrupting the calm moment.

"Faith, for one," Sirius said hoarsely.

Harry nodded. "Hermione, from what others are telling me."

The two men exchanged a look. It was obvious neither one had heard this news.

"And Rupert Giles," Ginny filled in, "Buffy's Watcher."

At their wayward glances, Harry knew they were hiding something from him… he _felt _it. "And…?" he asked lightly.

"Dumbledore," Lupin replied sadly. Harry let out a long breath and stared up at the lights, hearing the sounds of the others moving around him. Nurses seemed to materialize out of nowhere, adding bouquets of flowers, huge potted plants, large stuffed animals, overflowing tins of biscuits and everything to the tables surrounding his bed. He saw Ron sit in one of the chairs. He watched Ginny disappear out into the corridor to talk to someone before coming back, smiling slightly, as she took a seat next to Ron. Ron's parents went next door to check on Percy, who had apparently suffered a serious back injury during the final battle. His eyes gazed every so often at the door across the hall, as though expecting to see his sister walk through it. He saw Sirius' backside and knew that his godfather was looking in on her. He felt grateful, but also sad, knowing what Sirius had lost… what they all had lost…

They all had so much grieving to do.

x-o-x

The next few days showed enormous changes in the Wizarding community. The overnight vigil had grown until three thousand people had gathered around Hogwarts, each holding a candle, each singing in a slow, soft chant until word was given that Harry Potter lived. A great cheer rippled through the crowd and the somber dirge turned into a celebratory song. Cheering broke out in Muggle streets and, at last, the British Prime Minister was able to release the weight that had complicated matters more… the war in the Wizarding world was over. Good had prevailed over evil once again, though with a price. Harry was released from St. Mungo's later that day and had walked out into a crowd of hundreds. Ducking under many advances, he couldn't help but laugh when he saw his familiar Firebolt and a familiar figure standing next to it. Harry gladly flew off with Oliver Wood, who admitted that he had looked in on Buffy after hearing that she had almost died in the final battle.

Since then, it seemed like every day was new and exciting. But, in Harry's mind, every moment he was awake he was aware of the cruelty of the war and what it had cost him. It seemed to him that he couldn't get warm, couldn't bask in the glow of the celebration. He had yet to hoist a drink in his name, but had dumped many from the friends he had lost. Even Ron was somber, turning over a goblet of pumpkin juice when a tearful Parvati Patil read a rather touching eulogy for her dead sister, Padma. Ron had once taken Padma to the Yule Ball and the guilt had obviously not worn down on him as he had gone and embraced a tearful Parvati afterwards.

Then came the worst role of all – burying the dead. Buffy and Wesley had taken care of Giles' arrangements. Buffy had been released from St. Mungo's the day after Harry had been and had been taken by Wesley back to Hogwarts. She had then walked away from a tender moment shared between the Watcher and the klutzy Witch in order to spend time with a grieving Sirius.

But in Harry's world, things went on. Students carefully moved around the pieces were Hogwarts had fallen apart, though it seemed that every single Witch and Wizard with a chainsaw and skill for metallurgy suddenly arrived to assist in putting Hogwarts back together. Classes resumed, but Harry found that his heart wasn't in it.

"Listen to that," Ron said, drawing away from the window. They were in London, at Buffy's flat. Ron was fixing a Muggle tie and making a face. In the distance, Harry could hear singing. He scowled at his reflection in the mirror as he turned to the window, toothbrush in hand.

"Won't they ever stop?"

"Any reason why they should, mate?" Ron asked. "Blimey, I can't wait to burn this suit."

Harry couldn't disagree with him. The last time he had worn the nice Muggle suit Buffy had bought him was Hermione's funeral just two days before. It had been a painful event with nearly every Gryffindor showing up at the plot with Hermione's Muggle parents staring at them in disbelief. Professor McGonagall, looking very out-of-place in a Muggle dress, gave them the Hogwarts flag bearing the Gryffindor crest and told them that her daughter had died with distinction, honor and a posthumous Order of Merlin, First Class. Harry had detached his medal for Special Services to the School and had attached it to Hermione's calm robes. She was buried in her blue dress robes, the color adding little to her pale face. He barely held in his tears as he said a silent goodbye before adding a silent plea to Faith to look after his fallen friend.

Dumbledore's memorial had come the day before classes had resumed, less than a week before. Hagrid had carried Dumbledore to a white table and had set him down. The new Minister for Magic had given a touching speech, followed by one from Harry, but only because the crowd had started cheering when they saw him, despite his attempts to remain hidden.

But this service would be small and, for that, Harry was grateful.

"Are you gentlemen ready?" Buffy asked, coming from her room and hurrying down the steps, pulling on her leather pumps as she went. Harry stared at his sister, completely overwhelmed by how delicate she looked. Obviously she was taking Faith's death hard, too. He gave her a half-smile and turned to fidget with his own tie. Buffy finally took pity on Ron and quickly did up his. "We should hurry… we don't want to keep Sirius waiting."

One thing he was grateful for was the way Buffy had suddenly turned to Sirius for comfort. Harry had tried to throw himself back into a normal routine, but it was hard, especially since he received more than a hundred owls each morning and hundreds more throughout the day. He had two bins full of unread mail, mail he knew Hermione would be reading if she were still here.

He felt his eyes glisten and he felt his heart tighten as, once again, he thought of Hermione. Oh, how he missed her! It was like losing a piece of his soul with her no longer there, giving him the answers to everything he needed.

"That and we need to study for our N.E.W.T. tests," Ron pointed out.

Buffy gave him a patient smile. "That too." As the three passed below the steps, Buffy took her bag, nearly losing a slip of paper inside of it. Harry touched the pin on the lapel of his blazer and smiled down at it. Buffy lifted the Hogwarts flag bearing the Slytherin coat of arms, mainly because she had asked Severus for one and because she knew Professor Snape and Sirius would never stand for more than a minute in one another's presence without someone dying.

"Let's go."

Faith's service was small, indeed. Only a few other students showed up. One surprise was Juliet Rosier. She immediately went to Ron, hugging him silently and crying into his shoulder. Ron seemed to suddenly know what to do, patting her shoulder and whispering soft words of comfort. Harry stood alone until Sirius joined him. Buffy had gone forward to the casket in order to drape the flag over. The family mausoleum was waiting for its latest addition, one Sirius wasn't sure about. But Buffy had convinced him that Faith belonged with her family – it was something she had been looking for her entire life and one she had finally found with the Blacks.

The other surprise guest was Draco and his mother. Neither was too happy as they had their own grieving to do. Lucius Malfoy had been killed in the final battle, but Narcissa seemed somewhat nonplussed, even offering her cousin a soft smile and a handshake. Draco had gone immediately to Juliet and the two shared a hug. Ron didn't even bother protesting, seeing as how Draco had somehow, someway, saved Ginny's life in the battle.

For a moment, all stood around the casket. Harry then stepped forward, unpinning the Order of Merlin, First Class from his coat and gently pinning it to Faith's dress. She had been buried in the white dress that both Buffy and Harry had seen in their dreams. It made her look like she was reborn, casting off a life she never loved but finally getting the peace she deserved.

After that, Buffy stepped forward. During Hermione's funeral, she had been in tears, only pausing enough to say that Hermione was the first person in the Wizarding world that made her feel like she wasn't someone to be feared, but rather someone special. Harry had teared up a bit over that on his own, but said nothing to her afterwards.

This time, she smoothed a crumpled bit of paper and read aloud, "My life closed twice before its close; it yet remains to see if immortality unveil a third event to me. So huge, so hopeless to conceive, as those twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell. Mirror, shadow, sister, friend… half of what I am was you. A part of my soul is forever gone and what remains is broken, too. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next."

She could hardly speak towards the end, finally breaking off. To Harry's surprise, it was Draco who put the comforting hand on her arm. Harry shook his head, watching as his former arch-enemy comforted his sister. And, the weird part was, it didn't bother him anymore.

Once Faith was lowered into the ground, Harry felt as though a part of his soul had died, too. He remained there, even after all of the others had gone.

It wasn't until Sirius appeared again, looking exhausted, did Harry finally turn away.

"I barely knew her," Harry breathed. "But I…"

"I know," Sirius said, clasping Harry's shoulder. "After what I've seen… I know."

"How can she be gone?" Harry asked, his voice wavering. "How can they be gone? What is this world if all I do is lose the people I love the most and the people who deserve the most don't even get the chance to see the world with light? How is this fair? I wanted a world I could look up to, a world to feel safe in. What kind of world is this? Why do the people I love have to die and suffer? Faith was so good and so wonderful to me and I wanted her to be… and Hermione… she was the strong one, the one who knew every answer, who had read every book. They will never hear the sound of a raindrop, or see the flash of pink as the sun sets, or feel the warmth of the sun. They will never drink a drop of juice or comb their hair or cry or clear their throat or laugh and I… I... I need to know why."

"I don't know," Sirius said quietly. "I don't know. Nobody knows. Nobody can."

Harry shook his head. He just didn't understand how it could go from being against Voldemort, the Wizard who killed his parents to now, a world without Voldemort and a world without his friends. It didn't make any sense to him… and he was done trying to pretend it did. "I don't know how to live in this world."

He felt Sirius grasp his arm tighter before the older man slipped away. "Harry, you're the Boy Who Lived. If you can't find a way, no one can."

x-o-o-x

**Author's Note: **This is the penultimate chapter, which means the one before the end. This chapter nearly destroyed me. The next is more of an epilogue. Again, many, many, many thanks to Grace, my beta and my friend, for being there with me every step of the way. This story would not be what it is without you.


	24. Wonders Are Waiting to Start

**Author's Note: **This is the end, the finale, the last piece of a puzzle that has kept me going for three years plus. I originally went for the first epilogue, but added the second after a bit of thought. Final thoughts and reviewer comments will be in the profile. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for following this story to journey's end. I literally teared up as I finished this and I suppose for good reason. Grace, I owe you so much for being my beta reader… you rock my world. For those of you awaiting the arrival of Book 7, the wait is almost over! Read it, cherish it and enjoy it because it will be the last one. The title comes from one song I listened to while writing the last chapter that positively made me bawl, 'If We Hold On Together' from 'Land Before Time'.

x-o-o-x

**Epilogue**

**Wonders Are Waiting to Start**

x-o-o-x

"Family isn't about whose blood you have. It's about who you care about."

- Trey Parker & Matt Stone

x-o-o-x

The warmth of the sun shone down upon them, a slight breeze rippling through the longer grasses. One figure stood at a podium, students gathered on chairs behind them while hundreds more were seated out below a precipice. The single figure stared at the crowd for a moment, pausing in her speech, before continuing on.

"We have lost those we care for, those we consider friends, those we count amongst out family," Headmistress McGonagall spoke from a bitter truth, having lived through two wars. She saw the understanding the eyes of the parents whose children had just lived out the final war. "There are those that should be standing here with us today, but aren't."

From where he stood before his seat, Harry Potter let his eyes wander. On the opposite side of the stage were empty seats, each decorated with a paper bow, each leaving a gaping hole in the legacy of each unique soul left behind. For a moment, he thought his eyes would tear up. But the moment passed. He had shed enough tears for this now, knowing that he would be graduating and that others he knew should have been there weren't. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to return his gaze to the Headmistress named after Dumbledore's death.

"We are now returning home, but the world isn't quite what it was the last time we were there. We face a future that is unclear, a path that is uncertain. I cannot tell you the future or show you the way. This must be decided amongst yourselves. I can only guide you to the next step and you have been taught all you need to know."

Harry let his eyes wander to the audience below, again somewhat disgusted by how large it was. He found his sister easily enough. He always had a sight for power and she was easily one of the most powerful women in the world, if not the most powerful strength-wise. She stood next to a young girl who was slightly taller than her. Dark auburn hair curled down her shoulders and her pale eyes blinked back at him, not really seeing or knowing. With a pang, Harry realized that this was either a new Slayer or else Buffy was babysitting minors again. On Buffy's opposite side was Willow. He felt a slight leap in his heart at seeing her, even as her eyes met his and she grinned. He couldn't explain why he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of liking her, but it was there and it was tangible and he knew it was because Willow was one of Buffy's best friends. His eyes shifted further and he saw Tara. He felt her power as well, different and yet Mother Earth to Willow's rather sharp entrance into magic. Both women had incredible skills but both were just so different… Willow had chosen a direct path while Tara still sought hers from the earth.

He spied the Weasleys a few rows back, all somber and sitting with vague looks of pride on their face. He saw Sirius, Remus, Tonks and a few others from the Order of the Phoenix sitting in the row behind the Weasleys. Behind them, lurking towards the trees, was the enormous form of Hagrid. He felt an enormous stab of pride that they were all here on this day, the day of their Leaving Ceremony.

"You will take the memories you have made, the lessons you learned, the friends that will never leave you and your new soul, one tarnished by the darkness and one strengthened by the light and you will become the person you were born to be," the Headmistress continued, her voice choked with slight emotion as she stared fondly at the students behind her. "Take a look at the faces of the students standing behind me, the ones that braved a dark world in order to win a war to save this world. Remember their faces, for you will one day tell your children and your grandchildren that you knew such men and women that would defend their school and their world with their lives, if they needed to. You will find great leaders, promising politicians, those great with skills in business and enterprise… and you will find those who long for stability. These are the faces you see here today and these are the faces you will always remember. To the class that delivered the world from the darkness of Voldemort, I announce today that you will take your leave of Hogwarts, to find your way."

There was sudden applause in the crowd. Ron Weasley stifled a yawn as he brought his hands together a few times before the students were, at last, allowed to sit. Headmistress McGonagall turned the podium over to Rufus Scrimgeour, the new Minister of Magic. His speech wasn't quite as longwinded as the Headmistress' but at least he got the point across. Once his speech was done, they heard Professor Flitwick's chorus strike up again and, at last, the ceremony came to an end.

Watching his family, his friends, the entire captive audience get to their feet and clap their hands, the applause was overwhelming, the sound bringing tears to his eyes.

At last, he left the stage and stepped into his sister's arms.

"I am so proud of you," Buffy said, holding him for a moment before stepping back, pressing a hand to his cheek.

"I really hope you didn't have to sit through something like that," Harry replied fervently as he quickly leaned over to hug Willow.

"No," Willow laughed as she squeezed Harry for a minute. "Our commencement speaker turned into a big snake and tried to eat us." Harry froze as he pulled back, looking appalled. "But I'm sure it only happened in Sunnydale," she assured him quickly at the panic-stricken look on his face. "I don't think that your Headmistress will turn into a giant demon snake, right?"

"I think we're safe there," Buffy chuckled as she took the arm of the young woman to her left and drew her forward. "Harry, I want you to meet someone… this is Molly."

Harry blinked at the auburn-haired woman as she stepped forward, offering him a pale hand to shake. He hesitated a moment before she rolled her eyes, saying, "I don't have cooties. I'm not that kind of girl."

"Noted," Harry said, shaking her hand and watching as she stepped closer to Buffy. "I'm Harry."

"I kind of figured that. You match her description pretty exact-like," the girl, Molly, replied.

"She's the new Slayer," Willow breathed into his ear. "Buffy found her at an all-girl's school in Scotland and has been training her since."

"So you're the new Slayer," Harry said, turning back to Molly. He had hoped to inject some warmth and curiosity into his tone, but it came off sounding both pained and shallow. He gave her an apologetic smile as he swallowed hard.

"I am," Molly replied. "Bit of a shock when I found out, let me tell you."

"I'd imagine," he replied dryly. Before he could continue talking with her, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned into Mrs. Weasley's warm embrace.

"Harry, dear, good to see you. Both you and Ron, this is a dream come true," she continued, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "It was a long time coming and I am so very, very proud of both of you."

"That goes for the rest of us," Tara agreed as she and Willow quietly slipped away.

Harry grinned as he spotted Ron getting mobbed by Juliet's family. He couldn't help but tease his best mate over his choice of a girl, even if she was in Slytherin. But Ron actually seemed to enjoy Juliet's company and their friendship had grown beyond its boundaries just after the N.E.W.T. tests. He couldn't wait to see what their children looked like.

His eyes rolled as he saw Percy talking to his elder brother with Emma at his side. He blinked as he realized just what that meant and turned to Ron, who had joined him. "Did you know they were together?"

"They've been together for months, mate," Ron replied, thumping him on the back as they turned to walk to the front part of the castle. "Blimey, would you look at that?"

Harry had to crane his neck to see two triangular pillars on either side of Dumbledore's white tomb. He felt his heart warm at the sight of a spring trickling water over a single glowing orb as a sign of life, even in death. He reached the pillars and was stunned to see names carved into the stone. "Would you look at this?"

"Oh, yes, we were told of this," Ron whispered, staring at it. "I didn't think they could finish the project so quickly. They must've gotten this in during the ceremony, eh?"

"They must've," Harry murmured, his fingers tracing over the well-familiar names: James Potter, Hermione Granger, Lily Evans and, last but not least, Delita Black. He couldn't help but feel the pang of sadness knowing what he had lost and what little there was to look forward to.

"Come on, Harry!" he heard his sister's voice shout. "We've got partying to do!"

Ron chuckled as he joined Harry's side, looking over his friend's shoulder. "Does it really seem like a time to party?" he scoffed.

"If your mother's cooking is involved, I'm in," Harry replied seriously. "Besides… we saved the world, I say we party."

"You really have been spending too much time around Buffy."

"All right, you two?"

"Hello, Hagrid," Harry said, grinning up at the half-Giant as he towered over them, tears leaking from his eyes as he smiled at both boys beneath him.

"It's a great honor seein' you there ter-day, that's fer sure," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes with massive fists. "You'll come back an' visit, right?"

"Of course, Hagrid," Harry said warmly as Ron echoed his words. "You won't be able to keep us away."

The two friends left the pillars and an openly-weeping Hagrid behind. They continued towards the gate where the carriages led by Threstrals would lead them back to the Hogwarts Express. He could see his sister's small form ahead weaving in and out of the crowd. He could also see Ron's family and his sister deep in conversation, likely about the party that he knew Buffy had been planning for months. It definitely gave his grieving sister something to look forward to, that much was for certain.

"Hey," Ron said, suddenly touching his arm. Harry jumped and blinked at Ron before following his friend's gaze back to Hogwarts.

"It's just a school, mate," Harry replied, realizing for the first time that he would never again walk the halls, never again enjoy a Halloween feast, never again sit in on a class or enjoy the portraits trying to confuse them with complex passwords or watch the enchanted ceiling on a stormy night or hear the sound of Dumbledore's voice as he passed on knowledge…

And just as soon as the pang hit him, it passed. He was a better man for it, that he knew. Everything he was he became because of this place. Everything. And, judging by the look on Ron's face, he knew that his friend was thinking the same thing. A moment later, Harry smirked and turned away. "You know, Hagrid said this is where I would learn it all."

"And did you?" Ron inquired. "Learn it all, I mean?"

Harry couldn't help but take one last look at his beloved school. His lips quirked into a half-smile as he replied, "I think I did. I really, really think I did."

Together, the best friends walked away from the school.

x-o-x

_Christmas Day_

Harry couldn't help but smile at the warm, chaotic home. Large snowflakes fell into overflowing drifts outside, but it did nothing to dim the interior of the house that Buffy had bought from the funds left to her in Giles' will. Two enormous and rather tediously decorated trees sat in either corner of the large drawing room and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. The room was dark and stunning with squashy dark red chairs and sofas on a dark wooden floor. This was Harry's favorite room in the entire house, mainly because he loved the mantelpiece. A small clay urn sat in the center but the rest of the mantle had been devoted to a dozen framed pictures. Most were the moving pictures of the memories Harry treasured the most. There was a picture of Buffy, Xander and Willow that always made him smile because Buffy looked so young. It was hard to believe his sister had ever been that young.

He had moved into Buffy's house after the leaving ceremony. After he had done so, he found himself with a family. Buffy was a wonderful woman but a terrible cook, something that Oliver's presence more than made up for. He had apparently spent time with his mother and his grandmother in the kitchen because his cooking could have put Mrs. Weasley's to shame.

And then there was Molly. He had felt an instant connection to her but he supposed that every Slayer he met he would feel the same connection to. But he had been around her for the past few months and had learned that she was more of a surrogate sister to him than anything. For the first time in his life, he was playing the role of big brother to a sixteen-year-old.

"Who wants hot cocoa?"

Harry glanced up at the doorway and tried not to laugh. Buffy had walked in carrying a tray loaded with steaming mugs. She was garbed in a red dress inspired by Santa, even complete with white faux-fur trim. She gave a slight curtsy and quickly came into the room, handing Sirius and Remus a mug. Harry turned towards the commotion at the coffee table. Luna and Ginny were crouched down, watching as Fred and George danced around the large room while pretending to fly and sprout antennae. Molly had pulled out a Muggle game called Charades and this was apparently the Wizarding version of it. Ginny was frowning at her brothers as they danced around Tonks' chair as she tried not to laugh while she accepted her cocoa.

"Are you nargles?" Luna asked in confusion as she took a mug from Buffy as well. When she looked inside, she glanced back up. "I don't suppose you have any fairy dust? I heard they turn your hot cocoa into magic."

Harry tried not to snort in mirth as he curled in his armchair, resting his head on the edge. Even Ron, sitting next to him, smirked as Juliet shifted her weight against him, her hand easily clasping his.

"Sorry, I don't got dust," Buffy replied, snatching a basket from the tray and tossing it onto the table. "I've got mini-marshmallows though, which I think is fortunate because I did not do the shopping this week."

"That would have been my job," Oliver said, coming into the room with another loaded tray. He removed the last mug on Buffy's and switched trays with her to take the empty to the kitchen. He handed the last mug to Juliet, who accepted it with a smile. Buffy just smiled at him as she circled behind him to deliver the rest of the hot beverages.

"You want cocoa, bro?" Buffy asked, finally standing at his side. She was watching as Ginny now stood up, pretending to project her voice while Fred and George attempted to guess what she was doing. Shortly after Luna's guess, Ginny had called the twins and said they were butterflies. Now Ginny was doing her best to sing without actually opening her mouth, going so far as to hold a makeshift microphone in the shape of her fist to her mouth and wiggle her hips.

Once the cocoa had been distributed, Harry sat drinking his as Oliver returned to the room, bringing with him the mouthwatering aroma of baking meat. Buffy had insisted that since Thanksgiving wasn't celebrated in England that she would give them a proper Thanksgiving meal for Christmas. Mrs. Weasley, sitting across the room with her husband and her sons kept her hands underneath her bottom though she cast anxious glances towards the kitchen, telling her husband that she regretted saying she would give up kitchen rights. Even as Buffy gave her a winning smile and perched on the edge of Oliver's chair did she regret her decision. Buffy was no cook. That much she knew from the few failed attempts of Buffy making dinner with or without magic. Harry watched with a soft smile as Oliver pulled Buffy into his lap, his arms wrapping around her narrow waist. It was a tender moment shared between them and Harry could ask for none better than Oliver for his sister. Despite their mismatched career choices, they were a good match.

"You look like you're thinking," Ginny said, suddenly appearing at his side as she sat at his feet.

"I am," Harry replied as he turned to look at her. He suddenly realized she was holding a chain in her hand and bent down to look at it. When he saw it was a dragon pendant, he gave her a questioning look.

"Oh, don't look at me that way," Ginny said defensively as she snatched back the necklace.

Harry said nothing but felt his lips quiver into a smirk.

"You sound like Dad when he saw the box," Ginny snapped, turning back and crossing her arms huffily.

"Here, give it." Ginny blinked down as Harry removed the chain. Before she could protest, she felt the cool silver around her neck as he put the necklace on her.

"I figure if an evil git can buy a good woman jewelry, maybe he's not such a git after all." Harry had said this lightly, but suddenly felt deeply envious of this moment, even as Ginny looked down to admire the way the dragon charm looked on her. He had never been able to buy either of his women jewelry before their deaths and for that, well, he knew he had to make up for it. He found himself glancing at Molly again, but she was talking with Percy and Emma on the sofa the three sat on. Molly was apparently going over her training regiment, which included waking Harry up at five in the morning every day as she ran up and down the steps the twenty times Buffy had tasked her for. He knew more about her than he ever wanted to, which added to his feelings that she was little more than a sister to him. Molly had taken quite the interest in Harry's former suitemates, especially Dean, which had somewhat irked Ginny. Yet Harry found it amusing that Molly had an interest at all, given that Buffy kept her so busy with her training.

Harry watched as Wesley and Tonks made their way over to Molly. With Wesley's schedule at the Ministry, it made it difficult for him to spend any time at all with the new Slayer. But Tonks seemed to know more about Molly which meant that Buffy and Tonks were finally putting bad blood behind them. It may have also had to do with the fact that Tonks had been Faith's cousin. Eight months after her death and she was still a painful memory in Harry's mind. Each day was hard, but still things were getting easier, day by day. It helped to have his sister at his side, helping him through it. They carried one another through and that, most of all, made up for it.

There was a sudden crash from the kitchen as a tall woman arrived with a quiet smile, especially as she eyed her son and, perhaps, future daughter-in-law. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour."

"Yes!" Luna cried in her dreamy voice, gazing at a card as Ginny slowly crawled back to her. "We have time to finish the game!"

"We're ahead of you like a bazillion to naught," Fred replied as he cheekily peeked at his new card. "Oi, gotta love this one, eh George?"

"Right, Fred."

"Ooh," Buffy said, suddenly getting to her feet. "Pictures! We need pictures!"

The last thing the house needed was more pictures. There were pictures on the walls going up both staircases. There were pictures on the wall between rooms. There were stacks of photo albums underneath the table where the Weasley twins, Ginny and Luna played. There were pictures on each of the three mantles around the house. There seemed to be pictures everywhere.

Apparently, it was something Emma seemed to agree to. "More?" she groaned, getting to her feet and dragging Percy with her.

"Come on," Buffy said, grabbing her friends by their hands and dragging them over. "When's the next chance we'll all be together as a family again?" she asked cheerily. "I mean, the Aurors will be off doing their Auror things… Oli will be out on his broomstick breaking world records… Ginny and Luna will have graduated and will be off changing the world in their own… unique… ways. Percy will finally be named Minister of Magic because the current one blows. Wesley and Tonks will be on their Greek honeymoon. The twins will be off celebrating the opening of their shop in Kiwi-land. And Harry…" Her voice faltered as she smiled at her brother. "Well, Harry will be off saving the world again."

It was bad enough that Willow, Tara and Buffy's other friends from California had gone back. Once Willow's year at Oxford was over, she had gone back to UC-Sunnydale and had taken Tara with her. He missed them all dearly, but he had made the hardest decision of his life. He needed to get out of the magical world for awhile, but it wasn't an announcement he had made publicly yet. Sure enough, he felt dozens of eyes on him and he gave a quiet, nervous laugh.

"It's true," he said after a moment's pause. "I'm going to Los Angeles after the new year."

"For how long?" Ginny asked him. Ron already knew this, of course, as he had patted Harry on the shoulder to wish him luck. Juliet just gave him a beaming grin.

"For as long as it takes," Harry replied. He knew that Buffy could take care of herself. She had Oliver looking after her. She had Molly to look after. Harry had just survived a huge war with great consequences and he had a lot of power to deal with. He felt the best way to utilize that power and understand the source would be to work for Angel in LA. It wasn't a job he had taken lightly, either. He had always wanted to be an Auror. In fact, it was the only career choice he considered after leaving Hogwarts. But his dreams would have to wait because he wanted to get out of England for awhile.

"We'll miss you, mate," Fred said, hoisting his mug as George continued to flop around on the hardwood floors like a fish.

"Yes, we will," Sirius replied, lowering his head and raising his glass. "But once you return, I know we'll have the time. I just wish you weren't going alone."

"Oh, he won't be going alone," Ron replied with a happy smile. "What sort of best friend would I be if I didn't take the journey with him?" At Harry's rather surprised look, he thumped his mate on the back again before adding, "I've never been to California… it'd be a shame to miss out now."

"In any case, let's get this over with before we're all passing out from the turkey," Buffy said, grabbing a camera on a nearby table. With a groan, all of her houseguests rose to their feet and allowed themselves to be moved like puzzle pieces against the staircase that turned into the room.

Harry found himself wedged next to Molly and he nearly jumped out of his skin when her arm threaded through his. "Smile for your sister, Harry," she said with a shy smirk of her own.

"Yeah," he said, not quite trusting the looks Ginny and Luna were giving him either. Feeling quite embarrassed, he grinned at the camera.

Buffy positioned the tripod and quickly ran forward, snatched to the stairs by Oliver. "Happy Christmas on five everybody!"

Harry was suddenly overcome with emotion as he saw the beaming faces around him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny; Juliet Rosier tucked underneath Ron's arm. Emma stood next to Percy on the other side of Oliver who had his arms wrapped around Buffy. In the back were Wesley, Tonks, Sirius, Remus, Mad-Eye and a few other adults. In the front row were Ginny and Luna bent down and still beaming with Laurel and Spencer beneath them. In seven years, they had become his family, his future, his everything… and yet the adventures that awaited them all in the future.

This was what it meant to be a family, he realized as he heard the chorus of voices chant 'Happy Christmas!' as the flash went off.

This was what it would be like to finally come home.

x-o-o-x

**The End**

x-o-o-x


End file.
